


Photography Is An Art (But Love Is A Passion)

by poptod



Series: The Kings Love [1]
Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: (Y/N) isn't much better, Dorks in Love, Drama & Romance, Emotions, Eventual Smut, F/F, F/M, Gen, Liz is a dumbass thot, Slow Burn, Slurs, Ugh, angst & fluff, fem!queen, gender neutral reader, small town soulmates, they're havin fun
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-10
Updated: 2019-08-27
Packaged: 2020-02-29 07:14:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 56,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18773836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poptod/pseuds/poptod
Summary: Liz (Rogerina) and (Y/N) meet outside of a party. An unfortunate fate places them together in a photography class shared between two separate schools, right when they thought they'd never see each other again. Much to (Y/N)'s excitement and Liz's chagrin, they get further paired together as partners.(Takes place in the 1960's)





	1. Party Rockers on the Street Tonight

**Author's Note:**

> Liz Taylor is Rogerina. I just really don't like the name Rogerina as an... actual name, so Roger's nickname does just as well as any other.

A loud and somewhat worrying crash sounded in the distance, followed by an uproar of laughter and screaming. You swallowed, feeling the roughness of your throat. You’d spent a good chunk of the evening in a party you never wanted to be at in the first place, yelling over the sounds of others’ voices in order to try and talk to your friend. Jim was a good guy and all that, but he was older than you, and had a penchant for partying until morning, then acing the next day’s test.

You took a deep breath, trying to gather yourself in your quieter surroundings. In the very least, it didn’t smell like booze and cigarettes anymore. However it was very cold, and you hadn’t brought a jacket. You stood on the street curb, trees overhanging the way and clouding the street lamps. You closed your eyes, trying to block out the noise. There was a certain peace that came with silence, fresh air, and a deep breath.

A peace that was promptly interrupted by the shuffling and cursing of someone nearby.

To your left you heard muttering, and as you turned your head you saw a shadow of somebody rounding the corner. You blinked twice, thinking perhaps you’d just been seeing things, before leaves rustled, followed by a loud crash in the bush. Your eyes widened, and you jogged over.

Peaking out of the bush was a pair of stocking-clad legs, with shiny, dark red slippers on the feet.

“Hey, you alright?” You asked, trying to peak through the bush that this person had fallen through.

“Fuckin’ peachy. Leave me alone,” came a soft voice, much too soft and kind, and _feminine_ for the type words that spilled out of its’ mouth. Your mouth twitched, and you promptly discarded their command, pulling the bush back and lending them your hand to grab. They grunted, but took your hand, letting you pull them out of the shrubbery.

She was covered in dirt and blood. That was the first thing you noticed. The skin around her eye was red and purple, something you knew would grow into a sizable black eye, and her nose was bleeding. Her lips didn’t look too good either - split open and chapped. But one thing that stood out to you, despite her disheveled appearance, was how beautiful she was. Soft, blue eyes with the longest eyelashes you’d ever seen; something you’d classified as ‘angel eyes’ while studying faces for drawing. Blonde, wavy hair that fell to her shoulder, and light, soft looking skin. Her outfit looked torn as well, leather skirt riding up too far for your own comfort, and a pink crop top paired with a black leather jacket that seemed a tad too tight.

“Hi,” you said, your breath somewhat stolen away by this girl. She seemed slightly older than you, probably coming from the party. She carried herself in such a way that you might’ve done anything she said.

She just glared at you, before mumbling a quick, “hey.”

“I’m (Y/N) (L/N),” you said quickly, offering your hand to shake.

“Liz,” she answered simply, before pulling a small box of cigarettes out of her pocket. She offered you one, but you declined. She looked at you through hooded eyes, but pulled the cigarettes back anyways. She stared at you a moment longer, before focusing her attention back onto her box, pulling out a cigarette and placing it between a pair of pert lips, and pulling out a lighter, lighting it up with ease. The familiar smell of nicotine quickly filled the air.

“Don’t smoke?” She asked curtly, taking a deep inhale of her cigarette before blowing it (courteously) away from your face.

“No, never got the hang of it,” you told her. It was entirely true, you could never stop from coughing whenever you had tried it in the past.

A moment of silence passed, where Liz continued to nurse a smoke, and you watched intently, enraptured in the way she moved. Graceful, but proud.

“I’m assuming a bush didn’t do all that to you?” You asked, joking a little. You shifted nervously on your feet. To be honest, you’d never talked to anyone quite as mysterious and as beautiful as her.

She glared at you a little before sighing, letting the cigarette between her fingers fall to her waist.

“Got into a fight with a friend. Bit of a bitch. Love her though,” she answered, smirking at you a little before resuming smoking. You nodded absently.

“Who was it?” You asked.

“What is this, a bloody inquisition? It’s none of ya’ fucking business,” she said, her voice still quiet and high. You gulped. God she was intimidating.

“Haven’t seen you ‘round school. You new, Molly?”

Your mouth hung open. _Molly_? What in the world could that mean?

“Um - I probably don’t go to your school. I go to King's Lynn,” you answered stutteringly, highly embarrassed. It was a good school and all that, but it was private, and had the reputation around town of being a ‘nerd school.’

“Then what the hell are you doing at a party for Springwood?” She seemed to snarl at you. You wanted to take a step back, but you held your ground.

“Got invited by Jim,” you told her.

“Lots o’ Jim’s here, what’s his last name?” She took a deep drag of her cigarette and blew it right in your face. So much for chivalry.

“Beach. Jim Beach,” you answered quickly, beginning to hold your hands defensively in front of you. Hopefully she knew the guy, and further hopefully, was on good terms with him. Then again, you never knew Jim to be the type of guy to make serious enemies.

“Wait, y’mean Miami?”

You blinked a few times, confused.

“Miami?” You clarified.

“Yea, we call ‘im Miami. Miami Beach. A proper name. Given to him by Melina.” She said ‘Melina’ with such an air of royalty to it, she must’ve been some popular girl or something.

A moment of silence passed, where you anxiously tried to think of another thing to say to keep the conversation going.

“Um-“

“If you say another word I’m gonna kick your ass so hard you’re going to be picking my toes out of your teeth for the next week. Good _God_ you’re annoying,” she rolled her eyes, turning her back to you. You swallowed harshly, about to apologize before you bit your tongue.

She took a shaky breath, exhaling smoke up into the night air, giving you a perfect glimpse of her jawline. There was a bruise there, large and black. In that split second, you remembered the bandaids and healing cream you always kept in a bag with you.

“Wait here,” you told her.

“Fuck you,” she said.

You ignored her, turning back to the house and running to where Jim had parked his car. You jumped through the open window, landing in the passengers seat and pulling your bag out of a small compartment. Crawling back through the window, you ran back to the street lamp you’d been previously standing under, surprised to see Liz still standing there.

She stared at you, her face betraying no particular emotion as you dug through the bag and pulled out a small, white tube.

“Disinfectant,” you told her curtly. She didn’t seem to like your voice, so you kept it short.

“I don’t need your shit,” she said, but she didn’t move as you squirted a dot onto her closed eyelid. Ever so lightly, you rubbed it in, trying not to even touch her skin. It felt too daunting to have any more physical contact with her than you had when you helped her out of the bush. She inhaled sharply as you accidentally touched her eyelid, but you thought better than to apologize.

Your hands started to shake a little as you applied some to her lips. You dared not look directly at her eyes, focusing entirely on her lips as you applied the ointment and hesitantly rubbed it in. You could feel her cold gaze on you, though, sizing you up and judging you. Yet still, her face showed no particular emotion. Your heart beat quick and strong as you finished, strong enough that you could feel it in your neck and hear it pounding in your ears.

She stared at you as you packed up.

“You should leave.”

You paused, your bag open on the ground as you were about to close it.

“What?” Had you done something wrong? Maybe she didn't want to associate with the likes of you. Considering the events of the evening it wouldn't be surprising at all if she didn't like you in the slightest.

“Leave. Go home, Molly.”

Your hands started to shake more. An unfortunate, visual side effect of deep rooted anxiety.

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled, bowing your head as you turned to leave.

“Don’t get tangled in the wrong crowd. It won’t do you any favours,” she said as you left. You could hear the clacking of her slippers against the concrete fade as she walked away.

Oh. She was...  _protecting.._ you.

Maybe that went better than you thought it did.


	2. Miami and Photography Classes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A short talk with Jim about Liz, and a chance meeting with the girl herself. She continues to insult you. You also figure out you both take photography classes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit shorter, a bit of a filler. Sorry, still important to the plot line though.

“D’y’know Liz?” You spooned at your oatmeal, not feeling especially hungry. Across the table from you, you heard Jim take a deep breath, before haltingly answering.

“Yes. She’s in my photography class.”

Oh, like you. A little odd that someone so… badass? Was that the right word? Was in a photography class.

“What’s she like?” You asked, feeling curious. Maybe she acted different around you, or was she always violent and careless?

“Why do you want to know this? H-How do- how do you know about Liz?” Jim looked accusingly at you, pointing his fork at you.

“Calm down, _Miami_ ,” you said, rolling your eyes. That only seemed to make him freeze up more.

“Where in the world did you go last night that you got all this information?! That’s strictly Springwood circles - you aren’t even in the same district!”

“You took me to a Springwood party!” You threw your hands up into the air, before letting them fall with a slam onto the table.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Jim grumbled, rubbing his face with one hand and clutching his fork tightly with the other. “I invite you over to my house and you make an embarrassment of me,” he says accusingly, but there’s a hint of humor behind it all.

“Can you _please_ just tell me about Liz?” You begged, resting your chin on your hands.

“Only after you tell me how you met her, and everything that happened.”

You rolled your eyes, but quickly recounted the events of a few nights ago.

“So I healed her up, and then she basically told me to beat it, before clarifying or something that she didn’t want me ‘entangled in the wrong crowds’ or something-“

“Did she specifically say that?” He interrupted you for the first time in your spiel. You paused, your mouth still open.

“Uh, well, close. Something like, “Don’t get into the wrong crowd, it won’t help you in any way,” you said. Jim raised his eyebrows, sighing deeply.

“Wow. I think she likes you,” he said, before taking a bite of his meal.

“Seriously? She was a total arse,” you said pointedly, waving your spoon around. “Didn’t you hear that she told me to shut up or she’d beat the shit out of me, or is all that alcohol finally getting to your hearing?”

“Yes, well. Liz is like that, but if she shows any sort of protectiveness at all, usually means she likes you. Don’t act on it though. That won’t help you at all,” Jim advised.

“To answer your question,” Jim continued, “Liz is a whore. Sleeps around a lot, doesn’t give a damn. Lives in a home with her three friends, but uh, you didn’t hear that from me. I sort of manage them, they’re a lot to deal with, and if they get into trouble I can help them get out of it.”

“That explains a lot,” you muttered under your breath. Jim made a point of ignoring you.

“I actually don’t know that much about her. Not too close to her, n’ all that - be better to ask Belicia or Melina. Maggie knows about as much as I do, they’ve got a love-hate relationship going on.”

He was going far too fast.

“Wait, who are all these people? Melinda? Maggie?”

Jim just chuckled, his shoulders shaking as he laughed.

“The girls she lives with. Inseparable bunch, they are. I’m sure you’ll learn more about them, though.”

He winked at you.

Oh God, you hated it when he winked at you. That always meant he was planning something, or he knew about something that was definitely important that you should know but he never, ever told you.

“Jim Beach, I loathe you,” you said, finally taking a bite of your plain oatmeal.

“Feeling’s mutual.”

 

You spent the next hour pestering Jim before he kicked you out of his house, stating ‘if you’re just going to bitch about girls, you can do it to your cat,’ which was very rude of him. Either way, by noon that day you were headed home, ready to do exactly as he said.

 

.

 

 

A few years ago you’d picked up the habit of taking your cat on what your mother referred to as, ‘cat walks.’ Neither of you actually walked, and you didn’t put her on a leash as that would be preposterous. What actually happened was you took her out onto your sunlit porch, sat down on your hammock, and sort of just… relaxed with her. This strange routine had come about when the veterinarian had said that Spot, your cat, hadn’t been getting enough sunlight due to being an indoor cat. So every now and then, about twice a week, you’d take her outside and sit on the sunporch, making sure she didn’t escape your grasp and run away, but also making sure she got some vitamin D.

So this routine of you and your cat sunbathing was what you were doing that sunny, Sunday afternoon.

It _was_ what you were doing, upwards of twenty minutes before you spotted the shine of bright, blonde hair paired with long, thin legs and platform boots.

Well, it was more that she spotted you.

“What in the fuck are you doing?” She asked, a single, perfect eyebrow raised. Her voice jolted you out of your relaxed, lying down position, and you sat straight up, staring wide eyed at her. Her eye was swollen closed and black, the bruise on her jaw doing slightly better than her eye fared.

“What?” Your voice cracked.

“What are you doing,” she restated, over pronouncing every word.

“S-sun bathing my cat,” you answered, biting the inside of your cheek, realizing just then how odd that sounded. You inwardly cringed.

“Oh. I thought it was a rat,” she said offhandedly. “Thought maybe you had a liking for ugly things. Would explain why you’re friends with Jim.”

Your mouth opened, about to say something, before she caught your gaze directly, cold eyes staring right into yours. You promptly shut your mouth tightly.

“Don’t let anyone else catch you doing that. Not gonna fare well with kids who aren’t complete blockheads.” She paused for a moment, still staring at you. “You’re gonna get yourself beat up one of these days.” She turned and left quickly after that, her yellow hair bouncing loose upon her shoulders.

 

.

 

“I think she’s threatening to beat me up?!” You said nervously into the phone, holding it close to your cheek and trying not to let your family overhear.

“Would you calm down, (Y/N)? She’s just sort of… like that. I still think she fancies you,” Jim said, his voice crackling on the speaker. You sputtered, undignified.

“She does not fancy me!”

“(Y/N), who are you talking to? It’s taking much too long,” your mother said from the other room, barely hearable due to the rushing water of the sink.

“Just Jim, mum!” You yelled back, covering the microphone of the phone with your free hand.

“Tell him it’s time to go, you’ll see him later,” she replied, turning off the water.

“I’ve got to go,” you said back into the receiver.

“Yeah, I heard. See you tomorrow,” Jim said, clicking his tongue, then followed by the click of the telephone. You muttered intelligibly to yourself, sighing as you set the phone back on its’ hook on the wall.

“Jim’s acting weird,” you mumbled to your mother, sauntering into the kitchen. “He’s keepin’ secrets again an’ he’s doing that weird winking thing. Also, he said he’s gonna see me tomorrow? Tomorrow’s a school day. I don’t see him on school days.”

Your mother shrugged, setting plates around the table.

“Be a dear and set the table, will you?” She asked, turning to face the oven. You followed her orders without a word or a nod.

“Perhaps he’ll invite you to dinner? Your father did that once. Actually, he did it a lot, and after the fifth dinner he tried to kiss me. Never knew it was a date in the first place, he thought we’d been dating for months.” She laughed in a high, quiet voice.

“Trust me, Jim is _not_ asking me out on a date,” you grumbled, finishing with the forks and knives.

“Good God I hope not,” she replied with a sigh.

 

.

 

Photography was an art you deeply enjoyed. The chemicals were always fun to mess around with (safely, as your teacher had warned) and capturing images was incredibly fun as well. They were like snippets of memories you could never forget. It was this love of photography that made you enroll in a photography class at your school, despite it being a mathematics based school.

“Good afternoon class!” Your teacher said, opening the door with a slam and striding brightly into the room. The rest of the class replied with a dull, “Good morning, Mrs. Wilson.”

“Start of the new year, correct? Should be fun,” her eyes darted slyly around the room, “should be even _more_ fun with our upcoming project.”

Heads raised in curiosity, including your own.

“This semester, we’ll be joining the photography class at Springwood.”

 

_Son of a bitch._

So  _that's_ what Jim was referring to. There was only one photography class in every school, and since Jim went to Springwood and was enrolled in that single class, you'd see him today. As well as - 

Liz.

Class with her was gonna be a bitch.


	3. Flowers and Clouds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Your fate is sealed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some important background information is that the Reader, whom I usually refer to as R, is bisexual. I'm taking the liberty to label R as bisexual because most of the time, Roger Taylor lovers are bisexual, and because R has no gender, they can't be straight or lesbian. R hasn't come out to anyone, but is fairly comfortable in their sexuality.

It had been a few minutes of explaining, loaded questions, and irritating voices. Mrs. Wilson had explained earlier that the class at King’s Lynn wouldn’t be traveling, rather, Springwood would be driving over to your school.

“So why exactly are we doing a joint project?” One kid had asked, his hand raised right as he asked the question. Mrs. Wilson didn’t seem to mind his rudeness.

“It’s good to work with people you aren’t too familiar with. Sometimes, in workplaces, you have to work with neighboring companies, even if they are competitors.”

You highly doubted that, but hey, you’re a teenager, what do you know?

Another kid, a girl this time, politely raised her hand before asking, “what is it that we’re doing with this project?”

Mrs. Wilson smiled slyly.

“You’ll find out what the end of year project is soon enough. For now, you’ll be doing smaller projects with a partner of /my/ choosing which you will keep all year!” She pronounced her words very clearly.

There was a fair amount of groaning.

“Quiet, now. They should be arriving soon. In the meantime,” she grabbed sheets of paper off her desk, beginning to hand it out, “please label the best angled photograph.”

 _Isn’t this a bit much for the start of the year?_ Was all you could think. Either way, you tried your best when the paper arrived to you.

For a few minutes, you were distracted by a girl behind you throwing spitballs at your back. It was most likely Gloria, who had taken an immediate dislike to you when you had met during your first year of primary school.

A few more minutes after Gloria had finally taken a disinterest in spitballing you, there was a knock at the door. There was silence, then the sound of Wilson’s heels clacking as she went to open the door. You didn’t look up, but heard the door open, murmuring voices, then the footsteps of what could be a class walking through, or a large gaggle of teachers. You could pretty easily guess which one it was. You kept your head and eyes down, face already burning red. Liz probably didn’t know you were in this class - not yet, in the least.

“I’ll get right to it then; this is the class you’ll be working with! As I said earlier, this is Springwood, and this class has 10th, 11th, and 12th grades in it. I’ll be calling out your groups shortly.”

You didn’t know if it was habit, or curiosity, but your eyes flickered up, spotting the shining, slicked hair of your friend Jim. You’d nearly forgotten he was going to be there as well. You inhaled sharply, turning your eyes to your paper and continuing despite the fact that you knew next to nothing of what was going on. There was more muttering, then steps, and a hand on your desk.

Gulping, you looked up, finding a great sense of relief to be seeing dark, brown eyes instead of bright blue ones.

“How you holding up, love? Look like you’re about to faint,” Jim laughed, his hand supporting his weight on your desk. You smiled weakly at him, not saying anything and trying to avoid looking at the rest of his class. He, however, frowned when you didn’t answer. You weren’t exactly talkative, but you always answered unless you felt seriously sick.

“(Y/N)? You’re gonna be fine,” he told you quietly. You could somewhat hear your teacher beginning to list out names in the background of the pounding blood in your ears. “The chances of you getting put with Liz are - are astronomical,” he said, trying to lean down and catch your lowering gaze.

“I’m not sure. I hope I get put with her. I hope I don’t, too,” you very shoddily explained. He nodded in a half understanding way.

“Liz Meddows Taylor and (Y/N) (L/N)?” Your body convulsed as you heard your name. Physically, you literally convulsed - your legs jerking up close to your chest as your arms curled in on yourself and your head lowered. The way your teacher had phrased it more as a question than as a direction made you feel even more sick.

“Jim Beach and Johann Nesbit,” your teacher continued as if she had not just given you a heart attack.

Jim winced slightly and walked away to a boy near you who had his hand raised so Jim could find him.

You blinked quickly, trying to wake up. Had you had anything to drink today? How long had today been? How… how long had it been since you slept? Had you ever even slept before in your life?

Such questions bolted back and forth in your mind, completely senseless and completely anxiety-inducing.

Out of continuing footsteps you could hear the clacking of short, black heels against the wood of the classroom floor.

How long had it been since you had even _breathed?_

Apparently a while as you took a nice gulp of stuffy air.

“‘Ello, Molly,” came the soft, unnerving voice of the beautiful girl who replaced the presence of Jim at your desk. Nearly perfectly replaced, her hand in the same place as Jim’s had been, the only difference being she wore a too-short skirt, something that Jim was obviously not wearing. With a lightning quick glance, you noticed the large, black and yellow bruise she sported around her eye looking better than it had before, and a smaller, more purple and yellow one on her jawbone which also seemed to be fading.

“Hi,” you said, a smile sort of forming on your face. You weren’t quite sure - you’d seemed to have lost all control of your facial expressions, your skin going numb and tingling all at once when she was near you. Overall, it was an odd feeling, and not something you’d ever felt before.

“Didn’t know you took photography,” you added quietly. Liz didn’t answer, sitting herself on your desk like she owned it. Her black skirt splayed against the wood, revealing quite a bit more of her thigh.

When was it again that you started having heart problems?

When she didn’t answer you, only giving you that short greeting, you cleared your throat and fiddled awkwardly with your pencil. She scooted a little further on to your desk, trying to not fall off and trying to make room in the aisle for people to pass. You tried not to stare as she did this.

Slowly, with your head turned the other direction, you came to your senses, hearing the last of the groups called out before your teacher began giving instructions.

“I’d like for you to have a discussion with your new partner. Get to know them a bit, and find out a photography topic you can both agree on.” When Mrs. Wilson turned her back to talk to the other classes teacher, the students began to talk quietly.

“Wow, turns out we’re gonna have to talk to get this assignment done,” you said, coming off much ruder than you’d meant it to be. However, Liz did turn to look at you with a surprised look, making you feel a bit more confident that you’d maybe made her emote at all.

“I like flowers. And bees. Trees and birds are good too,” you said quickly, listing off the different things you liked to photograph.

Liz was quiet. She seemed to be either processing your request, or perhaps the fact that you liked nature so much. Maybe it was due to your straight-to-the-point attitude that had just popped out of nowhere.

“I photograph the clouds.”

You noticed she didn’t say ‘like.” She said ‘photograph,’ instead. Perhaps she didn’t like the class? Ignoring your thoughts, you sniffed, nodding your head in acknowledgement. Having nothing else to do and not wanting to converse with the girl (who didn’t seem to like you at all) any longer, you turned to the sheet of questions that you didn’t have to finish, but wanted to anyway.

The class continued talking as the two of you sat awkwardly and in silence. She, looking increasingly more uncomfortable on your desk, and you, your hands clutched knuckle-white around your pencil as you wrote hard enough to etch your writings through the paper and onto the desk.

Your teacher, about what you’d make out to be twenty minutes later, cleared her throat. She quickly caught the attention of the class.

“You’re going to be working rather closely with your partners so I’d suggest you be kindly to each other. I’d also recommend, if at all possible, to work outside the classroom.”

“Try to become friends, if at all possible. If not, be courteous to each other,” Liz’s teacher added at the end of Mrs. Wilson’s statement. You swallowed, your eyes burning as you closed them.

“This is your last class of the day, right? Has to be,” Liz asked, her hand reaching towards you before it curled back, never touching you. She tried to be nonchalant about it, her eyes flowing seamlessly throughout your classroom before landing quickly on you. She didn’t spend as much time looking at you as she did the educational poster on the wall, you noticed. You nodded, barely noticeable. Liz hummed, a pleasant and calming noise that almost made your muscles relax.

“I’ll follow you home,” she said nonchalantly, making any comfort that had come to you immediately dissipate. She laughed at this - you must’ve visibly tensed up.

“She said to make friends, yeah? I’m makin’ friends. Right Molly?” Liz giggled, crossing one leg over the other, bouncing her foot up and down. You noticed her white socks and black nylons. Most likely just her school uniform.

“Guess I was right,” she sighed. “You are annoying.”

Despite her apparent finding you annoying, she did follow you home as the bell rang. She didn’t speak and neither did you, but she did light a cigarette, placing it between two glossed lips. She didn’t offer one to you.

It wasn’t exactly a short walk from your school to your home, but it was a nice one, especially with the sun shining. Unfortunately for you, it wasn’t sunny, and it was unfortunate in more ways than one. First, it made it colder. Second, less bugs out, and you sort of liked bugs. Third, the sun couldn’t shine brightly through Liz’s golden hair. It would’ve made great drawing inspiration: something you’d been lacking in recent days.

Finally, after a few twists and turns, you had reached your house. You paused at the road, not walking the steps through your garden to your house.

“Could- how.. could we go to your house? Instead?” You tried to stutter out, your embarrassingly childish and dirty room flashing in your mind, your overbearing and excitable yet exceedingly normal parents playing over and over in your head.

“Fuck no. Let’s go,” Liz said curtly, adjusting her old backpack on her shoulders and marching through your garden that you’d tamed and grown with the help of your mother and the rains. You could sort of feel the despair and sadness dripping down from your heart, slowly filling up your various insides and intestines till it started filling and choking your lungs. Nevertheless, you followed her into your house.

“Hi mum,” you said quietly, taking your shoes off and placing your bag near the door.

“(Y/N), that you dear?” Your mother called from upstairs. You sighed. Who else would it be?

“Yes, mum,” you said, slightly louder. Liz stood silently in the corner, her shoes and backpack still on and staring at you unsettlingly.

“How was - oh, who’s this? A friend? Oh, it’s good to see you meeting new people. I don’t think I’ve seen anybody besides dear James here!” Your mother came rushing down the rest of the stairs, immediately swooping past you and cupping Liz’s face in her hands.

Oh no. Oh, God. You felt your insides solidify as your bones liquidized. A fun little combination, you decided sarcastically.

But Liz smiled happily, seeming to… _enjoy_ being manhandled by your overbearing mother.

“Oh! What’s your name? Do you like muffins? I’ve got a fresh batch of them coming up,” your mother quickly let go of Liz, finally, and rushed over to the kitchen to look in the oven.

“My name’s Liz,” she answered, her voice ever so soft and sweet. Just like how you first heard it, without the cursing and the sass. And the anger.

“Liz! What a beautiful name. How’d you meet my wonderful child?” You heard the oven door shut, and made your way into the threshold between the living room and the kitchen.

“Jim introduced us,” Liz shortened. In all technicalities, she could’ve been right. If you hadn’t mentioned that you were friends with Jim, she probably wouldn’t have taken any notice of you, wouldn’t have waited for you. You guessed you could call yourself lucky, or unlucky, depending on how you looked at it. But Liz was so heavenly and so incredibly fierce and beautiful, you’d consider yourself lucky.

“Ah, wonderful boy, James is. So, what are you doing here? Just come to have some fun?” Your mother came back into view of the two of you, oven mitts covering both hands.

“Yeah. Wanted to get to know this kid here a little bit better,” Liz slapped a hand down on your shoulder, her manicured fingers digging into your skin. You gulped. Maybe Jim was wrong. Maybe she _was_ going to beat you up.

“That’s just… wonderful.”

She seemed to be repeating herself.

“Why don’t you show her your room? Muffins’ll be another few minutes,” your mother suggested her head tilting towards the staircase. You nodded, feeling too sick to talk. You walked between your mother and Liz, taking hold of the white painted railing and heading up the carpeted stairway. Liz tailed behind, your mother watching with a smile as you disappeared onto the upper floor.

Your hand shook ever so slightly as you reached to open the door to your room. Unsurprisingly but still disappointingly, it had not changed from a poster-covered room filled with old vinyls and ten different instruments into a clean, normal room like your parents, which had a nice painting and a bed and that was basically it. Liz walked into the now opened door, her eyes wandering from poster to poster, then to the floor which was littered with instruments and pieces of paper, and unfortunately some old shoes.

“Do you actually play all these things?” She pointed to the floor, her finger swirling and not pointing particularly to anything.

“A little bit,” you said meekly, shoving your hands in your pockets.

“You play the bloody harp?”

Your eyes looked to the side as you tensed more, blood flushing your face a nice, apple red. Liz just laughed though, sitting herself on your bed without invitation. You didn’t join her, just standing next to the doorway all hunched over with your hands still in your pockets.

You were both quiet, unsure of what to say, her eyes boring into you with the intensity of an ocean.

“I’m not actually sure if you’re purposefully being mean to me and ignoring me or if you’re just nervous,” Liz said out of nowhere, her gaze seeming more inquisitive than anything now.

You looked up immediately, eyes wide with shame.

“No! God, no, I’m not trying to be rude. F- Heck, I d-don’t- I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to come across like that. I suppose it was quite rude. I’m just- I-“

“Don’t trip over yourself,” Liz interrupted you with a cocky smile. She patted the bed next to her, and you made your way over to it. You sat, trying to make yourself as small as possible.

“As much as it pains you, and I can tell it pains you, it’s very fun to embarrass you,” Liz said, staring at you with unmoving eyes. You shifted uncomfortably under her hot gaze.

“Thank you?”

Liz covered her mouth to stop a laugh. But seeing that made you start to laugh, which made you realize how stupid your reply was, which in turn made you laugh more. Liz uncovered her mouth, beginning to laugh as well.

Maybe if you got your shit together, it wouldn’t be an awful, no-good, terrible school year.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You might've noticed that I'm trying to avoid having to use pronouns whatsoever. Seldom will I ever use they/them pronouns, usually I'll just use (Y/N). Hope no one minds that :)


	4. Sweet Baby

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Liz defends you the best way she knows how.

Things seemed to go well that afternoon and evening. It was much like having your friend Jim over, but with more flashing of the upper thighs and more anger and sass. And, you supposed, more of you blushing. Liz was incredibly tolerable with your mother around, as she seemed to turn into a sweet schoolgirl that wanted nothing more than to graduate, go to a good college, and start a family. You had, at the end of the day, wondered deeply why her personality changed so much. Eventually you chalked it up to the fact that she probably wanted to impress your mother. Either way you were glad that she wasn’t all herself around your parents. If she was, it might’ve been a bit more of a disastrous evening.

Her sitting on your bed, legs folded neatly over each other, and tad bit of sunlight shining through the single window in your room. Not looking at you. Her gaze fixed intensely on a record of Elvis that you’d gotten for your fourteenth birthday, which was a few years back now. She spun it around with much grace, and you took special notice of how nimble her fingers were. No nail polish. If there was any, it was clear and you didn’t see it. Every now and then she’d look up at you, either in praise or in disgust at your music taste. You couldn’t say you minded.

That very specific image of her in deep concentration was constantly at the back of your mind for the next few days. Including the days you saw her. Sometimes, for a few hours, it would be replaced with new images - her sitting on your desk, or sitting next to you with about as much grace as a stoned bear and eating, or the bluest eyes you’d ever seen staring completely unmoving at you. Sometimes (oftentimes) you’d find yourself simply replaying those images in your mind as entertainment when you had nothing to do.

Today, however, you didn’t have to do any imagining or recalling. The sight was perfectly there in front of you, crouched down, with a large camera to her eye, the other closed tightly. There was a shutter noise, then she stood to her full length, about two centimeters shorter than you.

It was a nice afternoon, with a pleasant breeze blowing and the sun shining rather brightly. It gave the leaves a iridescent green color, making them a little see through and perfect for photographing. The grass mimicked the colors of the leaves, and the sky was perfectly blue, with clouds looming in the distance hinting the chance of rain. Around you and Liz were your collective classmates, bickering or agreeing amongst themselves and their respective partners. You weren’t in close proximity to any of them, so it was hard to hear any conversations.

“There, I got a picture of your stupid flower. Your turn,” Liz said, her voice as loud as it usually was, which was quite loud. You coughed and nodded, taking the camera from her. You took a nice, deep breath, quickly recalling your assignment. ‘Photograph your partners favorite thing,’ Mrs. Wilson had said. So you’d chosen a bright purple flower in front of the school for Liz to take, and Liz had said she wanted a photo of the sky. The sky was so clear though, you were slightly worried the photo would come out looking a tad plain.

“I’ve, uh, never taken a photo of the sky. It’s just blue right now,” you commented, trying to point out the obvious in order to get some help from your partner. She stared at you, no specific menace or kindness in her eyes, before strutting over and taking the camera from your hands.

“Capture some leaves as well. The edge of the tree, and the sky. Lie down like this,” Liz instructed, and she lied down in the grass, camera placed over her right eye. Her blonde hair spread wide across the grass, giving a brilliant sunny shine to it. You stopped to look for just a moment before copying her. As you did, she handed the camera back to you. You held it to your eye, attempting to find the same pose she had.

“See? Simple.”

“Yeah,” you mumbled, trying to concentrate. You clicked the button atop the camera, and there was a shutter, then you turned it off.

“We’ll see how that one came out,” you said, unsure of yourself. You were nearly always unsure of yourself.

“It’ll turn out fine,” Liz shoddily comforted you.

“I, uh, actually have a question to ask you, now that we’re done,” you said, hanging the camera around your neck and beginning to walk over to a bench. It was a shaded area, underneath the large tree you had just photographed. Liz nodded as you sat down, gesturing for you to continue but did not join you in sitting down.

“Jim mentioned you have three, uh, friends that you… live with?” You knew that you weren’t supposed to talk to her about this. Moreover, you also knew that you weren’t supposed to mention Jim if you ever did go against his ruling and talked about it. However, the saying does go, ‘curiosity killed the cat.’

“Yeah, they’re my best friends. We jus’ live together cause our parents aren’t often here. Out working in London and such, and since our parents are friends with each other, they sort of worked something out that was cheaper than commuting with a child or having a baby sitter,” Liz explained.

Wow. That was… incredibly open. You were briefly reminded of the end of that earlier phrase; ‘but satisfaction brought it back.’ After all, cats do tend to have nine lives.

“Oh. Cool,” you said quietly, fidgeting with the ends of your coat.

“I didn’t actually expect you to tell me. Thought you’d beat me up or something,” you said, the words fumbling out of your mouth as unfiltered thoughts before you could ever stop them. That seemed to happen a lot around the girl. As you heard yourself speak, your eyes widened and your throat began to clog up. It was a bit like an allergic reaction to your own stupidity.

“You’re a bit of a nerd, so I don’t expect you really have anyone to tell this stuff to. And if you did, no one here really knows my name. But uh, besides that,” she walked forward and sat next to you, not looking at you, “I don’t think you’d tell anyone.”

You stared at her. Did she actually trust you? This girl that you’d probably had five conversations with, if that, told you something rather private just because she trusted you not to tell anyone. Wind blew a bit stronger, and her hair was pushed out of her face, giving you a clear view of what was simply her, and what was simply beautiful. You mostly found it odd, not because of your lack of contact, but because of the fact that she seemed so closed off to the people around you.

Earlier, during a small break, an acquaintance of yours by the name of Jackson Ross came up to you. He wasn’t anyone special, simply someone you could comfortably chat with in the classroom, and comfortably ignore everywhere else. What you mostly talked about was books, and that was what he had come to ask.

“(Y/N)! Have you seen the new _Rogue_ book in the library yet? I’ve been dying for the sequel. That is coming out soon, right?”

You hadn’t recalled seeing it, so you told him thusly.

“No, I’m afraid I haven’t seen it, Jackson. Sorry,” you said politely, thrusting as much poetic and polite vernacular as you could into your conversation.

“Oh, that’s fine. Uh, who’s this? Your partner?” He had said, gesturing to Liz, who was sitting on your desk.

“Fuck off, cunt,” she had said in reply. It was more of a snarl, with an incredibly menacing glare the likes of which you had never seen and you never wished to see again.

“Ha ha, okay, I’m gonna go now! Bye,” he said shakily, and you watched as he jogged away through the crowded classroom. Later, you reprimanded Liz, who took it with a grain of salt.

 

 

“Lost in thought, love?”

She jerked you out of your daydreaming, and you marked that as the second time she’d done that, the first being when you were with your cat. Though, it was the _first_ time she’d called you a sweet little pet name like love, and it made you jolt worse than the first time, palpitations running through your body and making your hands sweat immensely.

“Uh - I’m, ah, um, just, uh… yeah,” you said, eventually caving in and admitting to your vacant stare and open-eyed dreams.

“Thinking about what?”

It was probably pointless to lie. You were a shitty liar, and every time you tried to lie in front of Liz your skills at it only got worse.

“Um, you…? I mean, uh, your, um, the, uh situation. That you’re in. It’s a, uh, I’ve never heard of it before. I was just, um, thinking about how uh, that worked.”

She stared at you, blinking once, before turning to look at the yard.

“Yeah, okay,” she said nonchalantly, brushing off your anxiety as normality.

A few minutes passed, her watching the kids running around the front of the school taking amateur photos, and you fiddling with the camera. A cool wind blew once more, this time quite strong, blowing your hair straight back and out of your face. You shivered slightly.

“You’ve got (e/c) eyes,” she said suddenly, and you felt her staring at you. Her gaze felt even hotter now, even with the chilling wind, because you had nothing to cover your face. It was very open.

“Um- yeah. Always have,” you joked, shrugging your shoulders and nervously continuing to fiddle with the camera.

Liz hummed in reply, but she did not look away from you. A few more moments passed in silence.

“I was thinking-“

Liz was interrupted quite suddenly by another voice.

“How’ve you been, (Y/N)? I think this is the first time I’ve seen you with another person,” you could pretty quickly identify the voice without having to look up. You didn’t want to look up. It was your daily tormentor, someone who was utterly pleasant in front of people that mattered and utterly disgusting to you. Due to her unfortunate smart personality, you could never tell your parents, who knew her parents quite well.

“Hi, Gloria,” you mumbled, hunching your back over more as if that would hide you better.

“We still on for tonight? I should think so. Your parents love me. Dinner should be fun,” she let out a hearty laugh, something which was an unfortunately rather nice sound. It grated on your ears. You decided not to answer.

“You’re so dull,” Gloria rolled her eyes, hands placed delicately on her hips. “Anyway, who are you?” She turned her whole body to Liz, who was sitting in a lax, unladylike position that she often took and that you often liked.

“Taylor. Liz Taylor,” she answered, looking at Gloria with a good amount of annoyance.

“You're (Y/N)’s partner?”

Liz nodded.

“Agh, I feel sorry for you. Barely ever talks, (Y/N). Such a wimp too. If you want, I can talk to the teacher, get you two separated. (Y/N) can work alone. Often does anyway.”

Your hands curled tightly around the camera. You desperately hoped that Liz didn’t take her up on her offer. Then again she probably would. Everything Gloria said was true anyways. You did often request to work alone, never spoke very much due to a deep insecurity of your voice and your teeth, as well as the fact that you never, ever stood up for yourself.You were never sure as to why you didn’t defend yourself.

“Oh, I don’t want to be a bother. I’m alright,” Liz replied, fingering with a twig that had fallen onto the old bench.

“It’s no bother! Mrs. Wilson would understand. No one wants to hang around (Y/N) too long anyways.”

Liz was silent. You sat in a desperate and anxious sweat. Gloria stood, a pleasant and willing smile on her face. She was always so kind in her tone.

Still silently, Liz stood up, brushing off her skirt. She took two steps forward, coming to face Gloria very closely. You watched intensely, waiting for your doom of having to do the one project you wanted to do with your partner, alone.

Liz kneed Gloria in the stomach. Very, very hard. Gloria keeled over, grasping at her stomach with both hands and breathing hard, the breath knocked out of her. Liz’s hand stayed put on her shoulder.

“You talk to (Y/N), or me, ever again, and I will make sure you never talk again. Ever. You know how I’m going to accomplish that? I’m going to step on your neck until your vocal chord mold into the back of your throat. Understand me?”

Gloria nodded, her teeth gritted in pain. She stood up as straight as she could, taking a nice inhale and running a hand through her hair, before walking away as if nothing had happened.

Your mouth hung open.

“Liz! That’s not very nice!”

“Your ability to perceive the obvious astounds me, (Y/N),” Liz said dully, strutting proudly back over to the bench. There was a bit of a swish in her hips. You sputtered, completely astounded.

“We have to be nice to people! Nice! Have you ever heard of the word ‘nice’ before?!” You whisper-yelled.

“Yes, I looked it up in the dictionary, the definition just had your name in it.”

You shut up after that.

“Anyways, what I was saying before we were interrupted, would you like to take a drive tomorrow? Miami thought taking us on a trip would be fun.” Liz returned to her lax seating position.

“Uh- where to?”

“That, my dearest pet, is a secret. You’ll find out eventually.”

“I-“ you paused for a moment, contemplating your words. “I’ll have to ask my mum if it’s okay,” Liz giggled a bit at that, “but if it is, I can be waiting on the steps outside of the school.”

“Sounds wonderful,” Liz replied quietly, her eyes set soft upon you. You glanced at her, smiling sheepishly. Despite your threateningly strong anxiety, you continued to look at her, even as she kept looking at you. It was nerve wracking, but comforting, and certainly a nice sight. Your thoughts moved much slower as your senses dulled. You even felt like moving closer… much, _much_ closer… till you couldn’t feel anything but her…. and maybe-

The bell rang. Loud and clear, long tolling notes calling from the bell tower of the schoolhouse. You hadn’t moved an inch. You whipped around, watching as the front doors of the school opened and the students that had been in there began filing out in a disorganized manner.

“Oh god- please return your cameras!” Mrs. Wilson yelled frantically, and your classmates, not wanting to get yelled at and maybe slapped, filed up to put them back in their respective bags. You lined up as well, quickly setting it in a bag marked ‘F.’

You jogged back over to Liz, wanting some sense of familiarity in the chaos.

“So, uh, can I walk you home?” You asked, rubbing your hands together nervously.

“No,” your heart practically stopped, “but I can walk you home.” And it started again.

“Oh. Uh, that works,” you said, laughing awkwardly. Liz smiled, then turned on her heel and began walking towards your house. You jogged to catch back up with her, and walked side by side with her as busy streets became silent and shops and restaurants turned to urban homes.

Liz didn’t say anything the entire way back, so neither did you. It was a pleasant silence.

Unfortunately, it was a rather quick trip home.

“Do you wanna come inside?” You asked nervously, hoping she would say yes and knowing she’d probably berate you.

Liz looked offended.

“I only do that on third dates!” She scoffed, whipping her head around as her hair hit her face.

You let out a breath. She was joking.

“Third? Really that easy, are you?” You said, smiling, and wondering when you had become so bold as to joke along with such a beautiful person.

“Not as easy as you, inviting me in your house after only the second date.” Despite herself, Liz smiled at you, unable to contain her joy.

“Unfortunately, love,” Liz sobered up, “I have schoolwork to attend to.”

“So do I. We could do it together. Um, sort of uh, sit in silence and work sort of deal,” you suggested. Pretty much anything to get her to stay. You felt in desperate need of her attention and you had no idea as to why.

Liz paused, a single eyebrow raised at you, her arms crossed as she thought about your offer.

“I need to be home by 18,” she said decidedly, and began walking towards your house. You smiled brightly, feeling like you’d won a prize. As she reached your door, she waited for you, watching as you walked up the steps and unlocked it for her.

“Thank you,” you said to her as she walked inside. She furrowed her eyebrows.

“What for?”

“Uh,” you froze up, blood rushing to your cheeks for the umpteenth time that day. But, telling the truth had done you well so far, so you’d stick by that. “For staying with me,” you finished quietly, staring pointedly at the floor.

Liz was quiet for about two seconds before letting out the sweetest, softest giggle.

“You’re such a sweet baby,” she said, patting your shoulder, catching your attention. You looked up, and she was rather close to you, her eyes sparkling with what you might’ve correctly called ‘admiration,’ and a smile making her eyes crinkle ever so slightly. You let out a breathy laugh, and her hand was removed, though she was still smiling as she walked up the stairs.

“Come on then, I’ve got homework to finish!”

You quickly jogged up the stairs to join her.


	5. Old, Abandoned Castles Don’t Make Good Playgrounds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anxiety runs in your veins and it progresses in a way you wish it wouldn't as your afternoon carries on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Melina Mercouri = Freddie Mercury  
> Maggie Harriet May = Brian Harold May  
> Belicia Rose Beacon = John Richard 'Deacy' Deacon  
> (and as always)  
> Liz Meddows Taylor = Roger Meddows Taylor

This sunny afternoon you’d been thinking of her and the Elvis record, her piercing eyes off of you causing you to sweat a little bit less. It was overall, a very nice image, though you weren’t sure why you were thinking much on it. You supposed she was just as much a normal person as you or anyone else was. Maybe it was the way she carried herself. You felt like you hadn’t met anyone else like her. It was probably your teenage mind, blowing things out of proportion-

“You daydreaming, Molly?”

You jerked, your eyes widening. You looked up, having previously been staring at the stairs you were sitting on. In front of you, about fifty feet away was Liz, standing in front of a car with Jim and three other girls you did not know. It was Jim’s car though, a nice black Chevrolet.

“Y-yes?” You answered hesitantly, not sure what else to say. You glanced nervously at her friends, realizing you’d be going for a long road trip with three girls you didn’t actually know.

The three girls, and Liz, laughed. Whether it was at you or just with you, you didn’t know, but you could probably safely assume it was at you. Maybe no harmful intentions. Maybe there were.

Liz began walking towards you. There was a certain pep in her step that day, and despite yourself your wretched mind hoped that maybe it was because of you.

“Dreaming about me again, eh?” Liz, obviously, joked. It certainly didn’t seem like that to you, the way she leaned down to your level on the stairs, her face very, _very_ close to yours.

“Absolutely fucking not,” you sputtered, pushing her away from you without looking in the direction you were pushing her. You immediately stood up, walking over to Jim. He always seemed to be the ambassador in these situations.

“Here’s your ride (Y/N), and you’ll be welcome to get in as long as you don’t throw Liz down any more stairs,” Jim said with a cheeky grin. You frowned. You hadn’t _thrown_  anyone.

“Where are we going and who are these people,” you asked, your voice flat and accusatory. You hadn’t meant it to be accusatory, but you’d meant it to be flat. Jim gave you an odd look for that.

“Well that’s Liz. I’m Jim,” he started off, watching your face carefully for any sign of either amusement or anger. He was smiling. You were not. “This is Melina, Maggie, and Belicia.”

He gestured to the three girls you didn’t know. Melina had short black hair and darker skin than you were used to. Then again, you were used to very white skin, living in a small town in England. Melina, as her name was, wore a pink turtleneck with no sleeves, which you found odd, and a very small, tight leather skirt with sheer tights. The outfit looked subtly familiar. Maggie was very tall, that was the first thing you noticed. She had long, black curly hair, and sported a nice, long pink dress. Classy, you thought. A bit too much like pajamas for your taste though. Belicia on the other hand seemed… older. It was odd placing her, as she wore a black… something, that covered and shrouded her entire body, and she was either in her mid 20’s or in her early 50’s. Considering who Liz was, and who she hung out with, you assumed that you’d never find out the truth.

“Nice to meet you all,” you said politely, lending your hand for a shake.

“It’s not nice to meet them. They’re all horrid,” Liz interrupted you, opening a car door between you and the three girls.

“Now that’s just rude!” Maggie said, her hands curling into fists as she watched with enraged eyes as Liz entered the car. Liz, in turn, didn’t answer, instead giving Maggie a pleasant gesture that meant ‘fuck off.’

“She’s always like this. I feel so bad for you, having to work with her for the rest of the year,” Maggie leaned in and said to you quietly. Her eyes darted to Liz and then back to you. You shrugged.

“I quite like her,” you replied, hoping Liz did not hear. If she did, she didn’t say anything. Maggie raised her eyes at this, looking questioningly at you.

“Still. Uh, nice to meet you, Maggie,” you said, clearing your throat. “You too, Melina. That’s um, a nice name. I like it,” you said quickly, shaking the girls’ hand. “And you… um, Belicia.” Belicia shook your hand, but it felt cold. You smiled despite that feeling incredibly uncomfortable. 

“Alright everyone in the car!” Jim said suddenly, grabbing the back of your collar and pushing you into the front seat beside him. The rest of the girls filed into the back, and it was at this moment that you began to feel a little anxious, something that would become much worse as the day progressed. You didn’t know this yet, though.

“Y’know, you never did answer me. Where are we going?” You turned to Jim, shifting in the leather seats that had been warmed exponentially by the sunlight.

“Well I thought, it’s such a nice day, I thought it’d be nice to, y’know, go to the uh, abandoned,” he cleared his throat, “castle.”

Your eyes widened. He looked over at you, seeing your panicked state, and immediately locked the doors with a fun little button on the wheel that you absolutely hated.

“Jim you open these doors right now, I am getting out! I’ll call the bloody police, I am not-“ the four girls in the back began laughing- “you’re kidnapping me! Stop laughing, you guys!”

“Ah, sorry, can’t let you out. Already driving. Wouldn’t want you tumbling out down the road,” Jim sighed, acting like he was regretful. The fucker.

You sat, silent, hunched in your seat. Liz and the others may not have known this about you but you were deathly afraid of abandoned castles which was quite unfortunate when you lived in an old country. The _reason_ exactly you were terrified of castles was because of ghosts. Jim, when you were younger and the one year age gap seemed much larger, had a fun habit of telling you ghost stories, then convincing you to sneak out and go to old abandoned houses. This escalated when he got a car, and he took you to an old castle where you claimed (you claimed) you saw a ghost walking down the hall, then a whisper down the back of your neck. After that delightfully bedwetting experience, you didn’t talk to Jim for about a month, and you certainly didn’t trust him or his car. However that was a while ago, and you had begun to trust him. You would never trust him after this, ever again, you swore to yourself, as paved roads turned to dirt, your town slinking away into the distance of a setting sun.

“Cheer up, darling. It can’t be that bad. What are you afraid of, the horrid architecture?” Melinda had crawled onto Liz’s lap, leaned forward and was now talking directly into your ear. Liz was complaining loudly behind her.

“Mel, get your FAT ARSE OFF ME!!” Liz shoved her, making her push further into your chair, in turn making you jump forwards.

“I don’t mind the architecture, it’s the ghosts!” You replied, turning around to face Melinda, who was embarrassingly close to you. Despite yourself, you flushed red from embarrassment, and that sick feeling in your stomach grew progressively worse.

“Ghosts? Don’t tell me you actually believe that, child,” Belicia said, her voice low and warning. It was the first time you heard her voice and it was definitely putting you on edge. You tried to stutter out a reply.

“Uh, I - ah, well, I um-“

“Oh, (Y/N) just thinks that a ghost crept up on us while I snuck us into this old castle. All stuff n’ nonsense if you ask me. (Y/N)’s just being stupid,” Jim said, making a sharp right turn. Your hand clutched on to the door, your fingernails turning pink and white from the pressure.

“Miami, your driving is god awful,” Maggie muttered in the back, both hands placed on the back of Jim’s seat.

“Stop griping, we’re here,” Jim said, stopping the car very suddenly and sending all six of your lurching forward. Another thing that nearly came lurching forward was the poor excuse for a lunch you’d had that afternoon.

“Does my mum know we’re here?” You asked Jim quietly, trying to get him to be serious. He nodded, giving you a sincere smile.

“Don’t worry too much about it. She’s fine with it, and she knows if we don’t get home by around 23, she’ll call the police.” You sighed in relief, nodding.

Feeling slightly better, you got out of the car, getting hit by cool ocean air. You heard three doors slamming, but no footsteps. Most likely just muffled by the grass beneath you. It was all very calming, actually - Jim parked on a grassy plain overlooking the ocean, the cliff only being about ten feet high and being more of a slope than a cliff. The ocean gleaming in front of you, and the sun holding its’ position right above the horizon. And in the near distance, the silhouette of a broken down, stone castle. You sucked in a cold breath.

You felt a hot hand on your shoulder, then warm breath on your left ear.

“Calm down, love. You’re gonna be fine,” Liz’s sweet voice spoke, and you did exactly as she said. She really could be the nicest person on earth if she wanted to be. She could probably hypnotize people with that dulcet voice. She patted your shoulder before releasing you, and began walking towards the castle with the rest of the group. You quickly jogged to catch up.

The inside of the caste (if you could call it that) was even colder than it was outside. The holes and halls of stone channelled the cold air rushing off the ocean, making you shiver. Liz and Melina however, wearing skirts and probably not the best upper wear either, didn’t seem to be too bothered. Glancing around the place, you saw grass growing on the walls and the tops of the walls, which no longer carried a roof. There were miscellaneous holes in the walls, ones that as a kid you would’ve loved to climb through. Now however, you were older, and first off you couldn’t fit - second off, you were never going to leave the groups side. Too daunting.

“I’ve heard they’re turning this place into a little exhibition. That means a load of bars and barriers’ll be set up. You know what that means, right?” Jim asked, turning back to the group and rubbing his hands together excitedly.

“We’re trespassing?” Maggie asked, hands on her hips. You couldn’t help but agree with her.

“No,” Jim said pointedly, glaring slightly at her. “We’re going to explore as much of this place as we can because we probably won’t get to in about a few months time. So I was thinking we could split up into groups.”

“What’s your logic behind that?” Melinda said with a laugh, crossing her arms in a mime of mockery.

“If there’s too many of us in one place at once, the building might crack and one of us may get injured. If we go one at a time, it’ll be boring. If we split up into groups, we have someone to chat with, and the building won’t collapse, and we can explore different areas at once. Happy?” Jim asked, crossing his arms to mimic Melinda. You snickered. Jim always had a point to everything he did. That was something you knew very early on.

“I’ll partner up with-“

“I’m taking (Y/N),” Liz said very suddenly, interrupting Jim’s statement. You turned very slowly to look at her, eyes wide. Apparently everyone else was doing the same as you, because she shifted uncomfortably.

“(Y/N)’s small, I don’t trust any of you to protect ‘em,” she said, in a rather strong attempt to defend herself. You crinkled your nose. You were  _taller_ than her.

“You’re just too stuck up to admit you _fancy_ (Y/N),” Maggie said in a sing-song voice, sticking her tongue out at Liz. Liz appropriately responded by saying, “bugger off,” and grabbing your wrist, pulling you away. She led you out of ear reach from the rest of the group, dragging you up a staircase that had long been exposed to the elements. Moss and lichen grew on it, but it led to a fantastic view of the ocean.

“Woah,” you said involuntarily upon seeing the view before you. The sun was just now barely touching the ocean, reflecting brightly upon the freezing water. Clouds gathered scarcely around the light, giving them a pink and purple colour. There was a light wind, but it wasn’t very much unpleasant. It promised a cold winter after a kind summer.

“Do you come up here much?” You asked quietly, not turning to look at Liz. Your mouth still hung slightly agape.

“No,” Liz answered shortly, quickly letting go of your hand when she realized she was still holding it. You frantically stuffed it in your pocket, feeling sweat already building on your palm.

“It’s very beautiful,” you murmured, turning finally to look at her. She, for some reason, was already looking at you. And for some reason, that made you incredibly nervous.

“Uh- yeah,” she answered after a moments silence. You smiled awkwardly at her, an awkward smile which she returned.

The two of you stared out into the distance, watching the summer sun set slowly beneath the waves. At about the time where the sun was half sunk in the ocean and half visible, creating a nice hazy look in the air, you made a rather nearly-fatal mistake. A single step forward, which caused the mounting anxiety of the day (that was mentioned earlier) all came to a climax and to a crash down. With this step forward, the castle rocks below you began to slip, the rocks falling down, and you realized a second too late what was happening.

You let out a high pitched scream fitting of a tiny girl as you lost your footing, your heel losing balance as it slipped forward and off the at least fifty foot high cliff over the ocean.

That happened in one second.

In the next second, your back was pressed heavy against another body, your weight against theirs.

“Holy fuck,” Liz said, her voice quiet, and shaking slightly of fright. You just then noticed you were shaking, badly, and you turned around to face her.

“Wh-what j-just happ-happened?” You said, unable to control any murmurs or stutters you had.

“You almost fell. I caught you by your shoulder,” Liz explained, her voice sounding much calmer now.

You gulped, then took a few more gasps of fresh air, your body still shivering before you wrapped your arms tightly around Liz’s upper body, gripping the back of her shirt tightly in your fists and burying your face in her shoulder. She stumbled back with the force you gave, before slowly returning the hug.

You dropped to your knees, her following suit to continue holding you. You wouldn’t have noticed you were crying if Liz hadn’t said, “shh, stop crying love.”

You knew it wasn’t that much, or that close. You probably could’ve caught yourself. But you couldn’t stop your mind from wandering. If it had been just a little bit more, a few centimeters at most, nothing could’ve saved you - not even Liz. Not even her, with her beautiful golden hair, and her soothing voice, and-

You felt your whole body shiver. You hands gripped her shirt tighter, shaking intensely as she tried poorly to calm you down. Somehow, it worked.

“Liz,” you breathed out, beginning to repeat her name as you held her tighter, your breathing bordering on hyperventilation. You realized quite quickly, from former experience, you were going to go into a panic attack.

You repeated her name, adding ‘please’ to your odd mantra.

“Hey, (Y/N), look at me,” she stroked your hair, trying to hold your cheek in her hand to get you to look at her. “You’re gonna be alright. Got that? I’ll keep you safe. Come now, breathe with me,” she directed you, breathing slowly and getting you to copy her.

“H-how’d you kn-know how t’ do t-that?” You asked, your breathing a tad steadier and no longer verging on the brink of a black out. “My mum doesn’t ever know how,” you gave a shaky laugh, one which Liz copied, her warm laugh calming you down further.

“Belicia. Melina got into a car accident once. Belicia nearly fainted,” she explained curtly, and quietly. You nodded. Liz sighed, staring at you. Her hand tucked a lock of hair out of your face, before coming to the back of your neck and placing your head back onto her shoulder.

“Liz,” you breathed out one more time, your arms tightening around her in what you’d say was appreciation, but what you might’ve feared was love. You weren’t sure what you’d do if it was love. Considering your track record, probably ignore her until she hated you.

You both sat there, you sort of in her lap, and her stroking the back of your hair, for a fair amount of time. Neither of you noticed the passing of time.

“Aww, come on, we didn’t split up so you guys could make out!”

Now, usually your reaction to this would’ve been to push the person you were caught with as far away as possible. That was Liz’s usual reaction as well. Yet, upon hearing this shout from Jim, you both clutched each other tighter.

Once you realized what was happening, you very _carefully_ let go of her, making sure that you got no where near that cliff again.

“I almost fucking fell into the ocean you thick, fucking imbecile!” You shouted at him, marching over with as much vindication and anger in your body as you could handle. Jim’s eyes widened, now looking concerned rather than light hearted.

“Bloody hell, are you okay? What happened?” Jim began walking towards you as well, grabbing your shoulders and inspecting your face and body for any injuries.

“Liz caught me,” you said, much quieter, a sort of reverence in your tone. Jim sighed in relief, grabbing you and pulling you into a large hug than enveloped your entire body. He was, after all, a whole lot larger than you. He let you go, inspecting you again.

“Good to see you’re alright,” Maggie said, looking worried but also looking like she felt it wasn’t her place to input anything. She shifted nervously from foot to foot.

“Yeah, it is fucking good, and it’s thanks to me,” Liz said, her head held high. It was only then that you pieced together that maybe, just _maybe_ , Maggie was the “friend who was a bit of a bitch” whom Liz had gotten into a fight with the day you and Liz had met. They seemed to have a back and forth banter that teetered on being straight out hatred.

“Wait, Liz, is Maggie the friend you got into a fight with the day we met?” You asked, before covering your mouth, your face turning a nice shade of red. You’d always had trouble having a verbal filter.

“Ha! Yeah, that’s she. What were we talking about again?” Liz said, arms crossed and a bright smile on her face. Maggie did not seem as pleased.

“Cars. We were _fighting_ about cars. I said horses were better, Liz disagreed,” Maggie said, staring very pointedly at Liz with enough anger to fuel the sun for at least a year.

“Right! How in the fuck do you think horses are better than cars? Have you seen how fast they can go? Not to mention the pure _design_ , the _artistry_ that goes into making one of those babies. You’re just a vegetarian coward,” Liz scoffed, turning away. You continued to keep your mouth covered to stop from laughing.

“Horses literally can drive themselves! Do you know how many people die in horse crashes compared to car crashes? Plus, it’s cleaner. No fuels, and horses can be companions,” Maggie argued, attempting very poorly to keep her voice level.

“Cars can be companions too! In fact-“

“Can we not talk about this again?” Jim asked, rubbing his face and looking as tired as a mother with four, disobedient children, which in all terms, he really was.

“What do you think, (Y/N)?” Liz turned to you, then Maggie, both awaiting your reply with annoyed faces.

“Uh, well I-“

“We’re leaving! Let’s go, (Y/N/N),” Jim grabbing your shoulders, steering you down the rickety stairs of the abandoned castle. Behind you, you heard the footsteps of the two girls following you.

“I’m assuming you’re done for today?” Jim asked quietly into your ear.

“Never assume, dear Jim, it makes an ass out of you and me,” you teased, to which Jim shoved you forward, no longer holding your shoulders.

“Oh, there you lot are,” Melinda’s voice came, and you turned to your right, seeing the woman standing there, leaning against a half destroyed wall. “Ready to leave?” She asked, straightening herself and her outfit.

“Um, yeah- where’s Belicia?” You asked. She might’ve been very, very creepy, but that didn’t stop you from worrying.

“Right here,” her rough voice came from behind you. You jumped, whipping around to see her staring at you, leaning against the opposite wall, which was not half destroyed.

“Wonderful! We’re all here. Let’s get going?” Jim marched forward, not another word. You blinked a few times before following, now trailing at the end of the group.

“You alright?” Liz asked, holding your upper arm gently. You looked at her for a moment, your saviour, before smiling a little and nodding.

“I wish I could show you how thankful I am. You saved my life,” you said quietly, being far enough behind the rest that they probably couldn’t hear you or Liz.

“Don’t worry about it. Really,” she said, shrugging, staring at the ground as the two of you walked.

“I need to repay you or something. Uh- what about, um, dinner? Like a nice one. I’ll pay,” you suggested. You did feel extremely bad for not being able to repay her the way you wanted to.

“Asking me on a date, are you?” Liz side eyed you, a smirk evident. You frowned.

“ _No_.”

 _Yes_.

“I suppose there is something you could do. Not sure if you can manage it though,” Liz said, her speech somewhat hurried as you neared the car.

“What is it?” You asked.

“Stop being so nervous around me. I can see you digging your nails into your skin and biting your cheek. Stop hurting yourself just because you’re around me. Ever considered that I care about you?”

Actually, you hadn’t.

“Of course I have.”

Liz scoffed.

“No you haven’t. You’re a shit liar. Get in the car,” Liz opened the front door for you, and you blushed, not saying another word as you sat in your seat.

After Jim explained what happened to everyone, and why the trip in the castle was cut short, the ride was sort of quiet. It wasn’t too long though, arriving at your house rather shortly, the sun fully set by then.

You unbuckled your seatbelt, getting out, then shut your door, and then another door was shut, and you paused.

Liz was walking out as well. You made a ‘what?’ expression, to which she returned a “yeah, what?’ expression in return, which resolved nothing.

The both of you walked up to your door, you unlocking it and her following you inside. You bit your cheek before remembering what Liz had said, unclenching your jaw.

“Mum?” You called into the house.

“(Y/N)! You’re back earlier than I thought you would be. How was your drive?” Your mother came running down the stairs. “Oh Liz! How are you? Darlings, I’m afraid you missed dinner, but Liz, you’re welcome to stay the night.”

You froze up, your muscles clenching and dripping with anxiety.

Liz and you, alone in your dark room, all night. Didn’t sound like a good combination for a good nights sleep.

“Uh, mother-“

“I’ll have to check with, um, my mother,” Liz said, before rushing out the door. You looked out the small window in the door, and saw her talking to Belicia. Of course. Liz came running back inside.

“She, uh, said it’s alright,” Liz said, sparing a glance and a smile for you before redirecting her attention back to your mother.

“That’s fantastic! You can borrow some of my nightgowns if you’d like. I don’t think (Y/N) has anything for you,” your mother led the two of you upstairs. “Sleeps in the nude,” your mother added very quietly.

“MUM!!” You yelled, your face flushed bright, apple red. Liz just laughed, sending you a flirtatious look which you quickly dismissed.

“Do you now?” Liz whispered to you, her hand placed on your shoulder. You didn’t dignify that with a reply.

“Here we are. If you’d like, you can wear this. (Y/N) has an extra bed in the bedroom, usually for Jim. You’ll be fine though,” your mother said with a smile, before heading back to her bedroom.

“Why’s your mum so open to letting children she barely knows sleep in the same room as her child?” Liz leaned towards you and whispered.

“I don’t have any friends. She’s getting a little excited. I think she wants us to be bond,” you answered, still blushing bright red.

“Mm, fair enough.” Liz sent you a wink before entering your room and closing the door before you could enter.

“Liz?”

“I’m _changing_! Don’t be rude, love.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been to the castle I'm describing and I didn't almost fall off. I did nearly slip down the cliff while /not/ in the castle, though. Beautiful place really.


	6. Dolly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chronic nightmares can make everything worse, but Liz makes it a whole lot better.

As you waited outside, the image of her staring at you, the sun shining through her hair and making her eyes a special kind of blue you’d never seen before, flooded you behind your eyes. The feeling of her skin against yours, rubbing your back, stroking your hair, her staring at you with the most worried expression you’d ever seen her wear.

“Well? Aren’t you going to get ready for bed?” Liz asked, sitting primly on your bed. The gown your mother had given her was a little.. short, and more than a little see through at the skirt area. You couldn’t feel yourself breathe.

“Whasnggummm no,” you let out a string of incoherent sounds before replying. You fidgeted with your fingers, trying not to dig your nails into your skin like usual. Your favour back to her.

“Aaaand why is that?”

“As my mother so kindly informed you, I sleep in the nude.”

“Then what do you do when Miami comes over?”

You pressed your lips together tightly.

“We usually don’t sleep. Jus’ stay up talking and playing games or reading.”

“Hm. Would you like to do that?”

“No. I’m tired,” you replied, knowing where this was going and dreading it.

“Well you can’t sleep in your school clothes and I’m not sure what you wear- oh,” Liz had wandered over to your closet before you could stop her, and had opened it to find a very wide array of very strange clothing.

“Oh well this is nothing like what I saw you in when we first met.”

A silver sequined jacket, and skin tight leather jeans were the two things she pulled out.

“Really, (Y/N)? My, my, you did _not_ seem the type. Can’t say I mind. Bit eccentric for me. Melina would love it.” She continued to pull clothing out.

A kilt, a short silk skirt, a mesh tank top, incredibly short red shorts, a black collar studded with silver spikes. She took great interest in that before putting it back. Despite yourself, you did not stop her, feeling stuck and fixated to the floor.

“I’d like to see you in this,” Liz laughed, pulling out an entirely silver sequined leotard.

“You will _not_ ,“ you replied, finally moving and snatching it out of her hands.

“Well I certainly understand why you don’t have any sleep clothes now,” Liz said, laughing even harder now. You rubbed your face tiredly. Liz sighed, watching as you sorted your closet.

“You could wear your mesh shirt and those uh, nice shorts,” she suggested, pointing to the red shorts sitting on the dresser in your closet.

“I-“ you paused. You probably could. “Yeah, alright.” You grabbed the mesh shirt, and the shorts, before marching out of your room, leaving Liz’s giggling behind you as you undressed and redressed in your bathroom.

A few minutes later when you reentered your room, Liz was sitting on your bed, one leg crossed over the other and bouncing the top one. She gave a nice, long look over, followed by a loud wolf whistle. She uncrossed her legs, walking over to you.

“Looking pretty good, Molly. I think that’s the most skin I’ve seen of you,” she said, fiddling with the strap of your mesh tank top.

“Shove off,” you mumbled, your face still bright red.

“Oh come on, it was a compliment!”

You crawled under the covers of your bed, pulling them up and over your head to hide your entire body. It, your body, was never something you were incredibly proud of, though you had no shame in it. However it wasn’t something you desperately wanted to flaunt in front of one of the most, if not _the_ most beautiful person you’d ever met.

“Want me to read to you?”

“No,” you replied, voice muffled from the blanket.

“What do you want?”

Hm. Not many people asked you that. You thought for a moment.

“Tell me about yourself.”

Liz complied.

“Me and the girls write music. I play drums for it. Belicia plays the bass, Maggie plays guitar, and well Melina - she’s just a.. a king. She sings with this voice that makes everything seem right in the world, and she plays piano in a way you’ve never heard before.”

“You got a bit of a crush on Melina?”

“Who doesn’t?” Liz laughed, letting out a sigh. “No, I’ve got my sights on someone else. Even left my ‘serial sleeping’ as Miami so thoughtfully calls it, behind. No more sleeping with random hot people! I, uh, I suppose I’m saving myself,” she said, growing quieter as she continued.

“Must be someone special,” you said even quieter. Any hope that she might’ve been interested in you immediately dissipated. No matter, you thought, being her friend would be good enough. She’d just saved your life - no need to be pressuring her into things.

“Yeah,” Liz replied simply.

“Are…” this was a touchy subject. You asked yourself for a moment if it was worth it, if it was safe, but Liz was… safe. Warm and comforting, in a way that no one else could seem to be.

“Are you.. a homosexual?”

“Hm? Oh, no. I’m not just into girls. I, uh, I like both.”

Jesus Christ, how was she so nonchalant about all of this?

“Is there a name for that even?” You asked, poking your head out from under the covers. Liz let out a stifled laugh, but answered quickly.

“Bisexual. Looked it up. Your hair looks,” she kissed her fingers like a chef, “beautiful.” You groaned, hiding under the covers again.

“Oh, please don’t go away again!”

“Tell me some other things about yourself. Then maybe I’ll come back.”

Liz was silent for a moment, contemplating what to share with you.

“I’m not sure,” she settled on. You chewed your bottom lip.

“Tell me about Belicia. She’s kind of scary. How old is she even?”

Liz laughed, and you felt the bed shift a little. She must’ve been lying next to you now.

“Belicia likes to wear makeup that makes her look really, really old. Thinks it’s fun to scare the living shit out of people. So it’s not really her that you’re seeing, it’s her act. Maybe one day she’ll get out of her grandma clothes. She’s got a great figure, actually.”

“She the one you’re saving yourself for?”

“Dear _God_ , no. God. No,” Liz let out a noise of disgust. “She’s a little too odd for my taste. Maggie irritates me. Melinda is amazing but she’s loud, eccentric, and a bit too much for me. So you can cross those three of your list.”

You both were quiet for a minute. You poked your head out.

“Jim?”

Liz visibly looked like she was about to throw up.

“G-God, no. Fuck. You come up with the worst guesses. Guess you’re just really thick,” Liz shrugged. She was lying next to you, as you guessed, and you were careful not to lie on her hair. She wasn’t wearing her black and white bows anymore, and it flowed freely on your pillow.

“I am not thick. You’re just making this difficult. Why can’t you tell me? Is it someone I know?” You asked, scooting closer to her. She tensed up a little, looking a bit uncomfortable. You didn’t move any closer. Lying down next to her felt oddly personal, a little bit private. It was something that, simultaneously exhilarated and terrified you, which was a common occurrence when it came to being with Liz.

“Yes, it’s someone you know, which is why I can’t tell you,” Liz said, a silent ‘and that’s final,’ at the end.

“Alright, alright. You say you’re in a band? Do you sing?” You desperately wished she did. She had such a beautiful voice just talking, it made you feel safe despite the fact that more often than not what came out were not ‘safe’ or 'comforting' words. You'd bet your life her singing was just as gorgeous.

“Yeah, I do sing, actually. Mostly the high notes in songs. You play guitar?” She turned to face you. You nodded.

“The chords are G, C, G again, D, G, F sharp, then E minor, D, C, then G and A minor. Uh, then E minor, D, and G. Remember that?”

“Let me write it down,” you said, throwing the covers off of you and getting a notebook from off the floor.

“Nice ass!” Liz called out. It was then you remembered the short red shorts, and you were bending over. You quickly crouched. “You’re no fun,” Liz said as you rounded around the bed. She repeated the chords, and you wrote them down.

“I’ll tap your shoulder when you need to change chords.”

You nodded, grabbing the guitar from the corner of your room and holding your hands in position. She tapped your shoulder, and you played.

She began singing, and the lyrics were, honestly, beautiful. True to her word, she sung incredibly high.

“Don’t you hear my call, though you’re many years away, don’t you hear me calling you?”

She swayed back and forth to the beat, continuing to tap your shoulder with every chord change.

“Write your letters in the sand for the day I take your hand, in the land that our grandchildren knew.”

There were no more chords after that, and no more of her singing that was beyond beautiful. You could tell what she sang wasn't the melody - it must've been a higher harmony to coincide with the melody.

“It’s uh, longer than that. It’s just that, those are the chords I remember, and that’s the part where I sing, and-“

“That was beautiful,” you said, your eyes wide and mouth parted slightly. You felt your heart beating, but couldn’t identify it was slow or fast. It just felt strong, stronger than ever.

“Oh, um,” she looked at you, clearly embarrassed. Her singing seemed to be a soft spot for her. “Thank you,” she said, clearing her throat. You continued to stare at her, and she fiddled awkwardly at the hem of the see-through, too short gown your mother had given her. For once, the tables seemed to be turned.

“Didn’t you say you wanted to go to sleep?” She asked, finally looking back up at you.

“Only if you sing to me,” you said with a soft smile, trying to catch her eye as it wandered away.

“What are you, a baby?” She said, attempting to have some semblance of the put together, tough girl she was before.

“I’m a sweet baby, remember? And all y- uh, all your problem,” you said, laughing awkwardly at your shitty cover up.

She raised an eyebrow at that.

“I know that was a fat lie, and you meant to say something _else_ , but I’ll let it pass. Get in bed,” she said, taking the guitar from your hands and setting it in the corner you’d gotten it from. You crawled over the dark blue sheets of your bed, getting under them on the right side.

“Alright, I’ve got a song I _suppose_ I could sing. If you insist,” she said, sitting next to you, still on top of the covers.

“Oh I do, I do,” you said, smiling brightly. She returned the smile, but shakily. She was nervous, and you could tell. You wanted to tell her that it was alright, but you’d been in her position before, and you were sure that she probably did want to do this, but was just nervous. You supposed you could be wrong, but she was a stubborn girl, and if she truly didn’t want to, she would not.

“Though you’ve gone away this morning you’ll be back again tonight, tellin’ me there’ll be no next time if I just don’t treat you right. You’ll never leave me, and you know it’s true. Cause you like me too much, and I like you!”

"Beatles!” You said quietly, smiling at her. She nodded with a smile, and continued to sing the upbeat song at a softer, slower pace than it was originally intended.

“You’ve tried before to leave me, but you haven’t got the nerve, to walk out and make me lonely, which is all that I deserve.”

As she continued with the chorus, you thought a little. That line of the song always made you a little sad. Watching Liz sing it, hearing her and seeing how honest she looked made you even more sad. She looked like she meant what she was singing.

“I, really do, and it’s nice when you believe me, if you leave me, I will follow you and bring you back where you belong. Cause I couldn’t really stand it, I’ll admit that I was wrong. I wouldn’t let you leave me, cause it’s true-“

You were beginning to sort of drift off.

Now usually, most nights due to your ‘oppressive’ loneliness and desperate need for human contact, you cuddled a pillow. This had given you the habit of cuddling whatever you found within cuddling reach whenever you fell asleep, which at this unfortunate point, happened to be Liz.

You wrapped your arms around her waist, an awkward position seeing as she was still sitting up. This movement had interrupted her singing.

“Fallin’ asleep, Molly?” Liz asked softly. You hummed a response, eyelids heavy with exhaustion. The bed shifted, and she slipped under the covers. Your arms now wrapped around her waist, and she put an arm around your body.

“Cause you like me too much and I like you… I really do, and it’s nice when you believe me, if you leave me….”

The last thing you heard was her, going “la, la, la,” to a different tune than the previous song. Her voice faded into your dreams, keeping you company as thoughts haunted your mind in blurring details and a sightless, soundless haze surrounded you. The images in your mind became clearer, the sounds becoming more distinct yet just as blurred and in a warm, summery gold haze as you slipped into a deeper sleep.

You couldn’t consciously realize this, but you had forgotten to tell Liz about your daily night terrors. You felt something off though, and it was this, but you would not realize it until you awoke.

For now, you were in a marketplace, in somewhere that looked like a classic, old marketplace from the Middle East. People surrounded you, all making noise, and all of it indecipherable. It was an English you simply could not make out, with bright colours filling your vision and streamers above you, protecting the various foods and people from the beating sun. It still felt hot as ever, and you looked down to see the long, dark clothing you were wearing. It was sweaty, and far too hot, so without thought you began stripping.

It was still hot. You began sweating immensely, enough to make you feel as if you were in an ocean, which at the current moment, you were. The air knocked out of your lungs, and a great pain in your back as you fell through the dark sea waters, bubbles coming from you and floating to the surface. You could hear your name being called, but it wasn’t yours. You’d still answer to it. Then again, you weren’t even sure if it was actually a name at all.

You fell deeper and deeper into the ocean, your legs forming into a tail of a mermaid, bright and green, fit for the tropics which you were obviously not in. Despite the gills on your neck, you felt you couldn’t breathe. You swam to the surface, but as you continued, it fell further and further away, dissipating into nothing until you could no longer see any light at all, only a seething blackness.

You let out a cry that came from deep within your stomach, out of breath and desperately needing a drink of water. You could hear a voice in the distance.

“Surrounded by water and not a drop to drink,” it said, and it continued, overlapping itself until it got unbearably loud, and you weren’t even sure that’s what it was saying anymore. It was distorted, and loud, and it filled every thought you had. You felt yourself thrash, your tail turning back into legs as tendrils crawled up from the bottom of the depths, grabbing your arms and locking your legs together. You let out a silent shout, another sound that came deep from your stomach and made you feel like you’d lost all your energy with just that one call.

You surfaced, and you felt your body relax once more. You weren’t sure how you got here. Your face tingled, feeling what you could only describe as ‘red.’ You were on white hot sand, and you ran inland, into a grove of palm trees that swayed peacefully in the islands’ wind.

“There’s nothing left for you to see here,” she said, and you turned. Liz stood there, but she didn’t sound herself, her voice grating painfully loud and demanding against your ears. She pushed you, and the wind tangled in your hair and your limbs, slowing and speeding your fall. You looked up, and she was looking down, off the cliff of an old abandoned castle, and as you hit the water, you cried, another guttural sound that knocked all the air from you.

“(Y/N)! Jesus fuck, you’re awake, oh my god, how many times do I have to save you today?!”

You let out a high pitched whine, your voice cracking as she shook you. You looked at the clock beside your bed.

“Technically it’s tomorrow,” you said weakly, flopping around in the strong grasp of Liz.

“What in the hell were you dreaming about?”

“You,” you answered immediately. “You pushed me off the cliff. I was drowning. I need some water,” you said, pushing her off of you and weakly stumbling out of bed and out the door. You could distantly hear Liz following you.

"(Y/N), you’re shaking again. What gave you so many problems?” Liz asked, leaning against the opposite counter as you gulped down a glass of water.

“Wow, alright, straightforward. I had a brain tumor as a baby,” you answered, attempting to be as straightforward as she was. Apparently it worked, as her jaw hung open, staring at you as a flurry of emotions played behind her eyes.

“Did- are you alright? How does that cause nightmares where you fucking punch me in the face?”

“I punched you? I’m so sorry,” you said guiltily, setting your glass down behind you and striding over to her, holding her face in your hands. You checked for bruises. She blushed, shoving your hands away.

“I’m fine,” she mumbled.

You sighed. “To answer you, it gave me a deficiency in serotonin. Gives you anxiety and sometimes, terrible nightmares. I was very young though, I barely remember it. You don’t have to worry dolly.”

Liz looked at you with a smile, laughing a little.

“Where’d that name come from?”

Your eyes widened, and you blushed.

“I- I dunno, I guess I just read it somewhere. I’m sorry,” you said, taking a few steps back.

“It’s fine,” she said, then mumbled something unintelligible.

“What?” You asked.

“I said I like it! I- I’m going back to sleep - uh, bye,” Liz said, sprinting out of the kitchen, leaving you very confused. You blinked a few times, standing alone in an empty kitchen before following her upstairs.

“Liz?” You said quietly, opening your door slowly.

“Yep.”

“Coming in.”

“Yep.”

You stepped through the door, finding her curled up in the blankets of your bed.

You tsked, shaking your head.

“Looks like someone needs a hug,” you said, still shaking your head and moving forward.

“No.”

“Yes.”

“Absolutely not.”

“This is happening.”

“It is not, get away from me!”

“Let it happen. This is going to happen. Theerrreee we go,” you said, wrapping your arms around her with a deep sigh, relaxing into her now familiar touch. Surprisingly, she hugged you back, leaning her head into your shoulder and taking a deep breath.

“This isn’t something I usually do with my friends,” Liz mumbled into your clothed shoulder.

“I don’t have any friends so I don’t have a precedent. Don’t worry about it, _dolly_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! If you have any suggestions for this book, or if the one person who reads this wants something more personalized to their living situation, you can contact me on Instagram @todtart. I'll be more likely to answer a DM than reply to a comment.


	7. Backwards Vision

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A shorter chapter from Liz's point of view.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is mainly to show how fucking dumb she is oh my god

You never looked at her. Not directly. She wasn’t sure why, but it bothered her, and there was nothing she could do about it. Sometimes when you thought she didn’t notice, your eyes would rake over her, feeling as intense as if it was your hands running down her arms and stomach, tracing over the curves of her legs and cradling the small of her back and feather light touching her face. You could be quite an intense person, and other times entirely closed off and submissive in every sense of the word.

Despite all this, you’d never fully looked into her eyes for more than a second without it being an accident. She wasn’t even sure you knew what her eye color was. She knew what yours was, the way it reflected the light and what it looked like when you cried. She studied you, a lot, taking in every one of your features - the way you walked, your shoulders slightly hunched with quick steps, the way you smiled; sometimes wide and unashamed, other times covering your mouth with your hand as the sweetest giggles came out of you. Nearly melodic, and she would’ve written a song about you if her band mates wouldn’t make fun of her.

The way you stared up at the sky with wonder made her want to feel what you felt. You seemed to be filled with happiness, a curiosity to know the temporarily hidden, to see and feel that which is unknown. Sure, Liz had been now and then curious about the sky, or the plants, but nothing like you. Your eyes would go wide, your mouth hanging open a little as you went into the deepest corner of your mind, curling into your thoughts and imagination as you came up with the wildest ideas and theories. Your fingers would twitch sometimes, something she was sure you didn’t know you were doing, and she always felt the need to break you out of your trance as you did that. She wasn’t sure as to why she wanted to do that.

You moved like music. You carried yourself like a spring flower, and you smiled like anyone would be lucky as all hell to see you smile, and Liz had to agree. With every day, every hour more that Liz spent with you she conceded further that you were much like the sunset she so loved to view. Getting more beautiful as time passes, till what is there is no longer sunset but moonrise, and a glittering black sheet of night swathed in cool wind and a single brilliant, crescent moon.

When she had first met you, she had not been this attached. Some weird, friendless child had just come up to her, pulled her out of a bush, then cracked a weak joke about it. You then mentioned you were friends with Miami, which had piqued her interest. After that, you’d taken care of her. And during the entire experience, you looked at her like she was the stars, moon, and ocean, as if she was the promise of daylight and the whispering words of night, like she was everything innocent and witty, everything sweet and peaceful, as if _she_ gave you reason to suddenly breathe air for the first time. Things she was hardly deserving of. It made her heart pound, the way your intense gaze fixed entirely on her, never catching her gaze, and her first instinct was to push you away. So she did.

She was never more happy that someone was stubborn against her.

She was, overall, pretty sure that you weren’t aware of how powerful your eyes were. How threatening they could be, and how kind you could make them look. Very luckily for her, she could hide her feelings very well. If she was anything like you, unable to lie, unable to act cool, she’d be a melting mess of meaningless apologies.

Biting her lip, staring up at your ceiling, she took a deep breath. You were tossing in your sleep a bit as she went through her thoughts. She hadn’t actually ever… _felt_ like this before.

 

_Oh_! She thought suddenly, turning to you. _(Y/N) must be my best friend._

 

She sighed, mostly content. She knew exactly why she’d been softly singing ‘la, la, la,’ to you every now and then. She knew what song it came from.She didn’t need to go over what it meant. Yet _why_ she’d been actually singing that meaning over and over again to you, despite knowing you were her best friend and nothing more, confused her. She rolled her shoulders, settling on the fact that emotions were confusing, and that she’d figure it out later. She closed her eyes, rolled closer to you, and promptly fell asleep.

 


	8. Crush or Crush

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Disasters are only natural, but there's always a solution.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm SO SORRY this is just butt awful lmao

It had been about one month since your incident at the castle, followed by a night with Liz that didn’t go the way you wanted. It didn’t go the way you expected it to either, which was not a good way, so you thought the way it went was better than it could’ve.

Since that night, you’d been trying to figure out who you knew, that Liz also knew, that she was ‘saving herself’ for. The images of her sitting beside another person, their hands intertwined, her staring at them with a dreamy smile saved especially for them, poisoned your thoughts and imagination. You never spoke of it to anyone. To whom this crush (you’d figured out what it was (a crush) about a week ago when she held your hand and led you behind the school, and your immediate thought was that you wanted to kiss her) mattered to, probably already knew. To those it didn’t matter to, didn’t need to know, and those who needed to know but you preferred didn’t know, had absolutely no idea. There was about one person in each of those categories. Jim was in the first. You hadn’t told him, and he did need to know, but he already knew somehow. He was very intuitive. Your mother didn’t know. She didn’t need to. Liz didn’t know. She needed to. You did not want her to know.

In the two months you’d been spending time with Liz, there had been no more life or death incidents, which you were both silently grateful for. The project for school, the photography one, seemed to be going well. Recently, you had a review on how to print the photos out and how to use a dark room and its’ contents, as well as a fair few reminders not to mess with the chemicals in there. However, both your teachers had given… odd, assignments.

“Photograph music,” your teacher had said. You and Liz stared at each other, mildly confused, before Liz suggested you photograph she and the three of her friends playing, more specifically Melina in singing action. You printed that out, handed it in, and your teacher seemed rather satisfied with that. Jim had turned in a photo of his partner playing piano, which had gotten good enough marks as well.

“Photograph happiness,” Liz’s teacher had said, which led Liz to suggest you go to a roller skating rink, where a lot of happy people resided. You reluctantly agreed, a little nervous because it had been a while since you’d been to one.

You had to drive for a while, so you asked Jim to take you. He took along his partner, Johann Nesbit. They sat in the front of his car, while you and Liz sat together in the back.

“Do you think it’s alright to photograph people we don’t know?” You asked quietly.

“Ah, it’ll be fine. It’s not like we’re publishing it or whatever. Not getting money off it.”

You reluctantly agreed. Both of you were too lazy to look up the actual legality of it, but you settled on the fact that it was for school, and Liz was persuasive.

You had decided to wear something a little special. On most occasions (all) you’d seen Liz, you had been wearing your school uniform, which was a basic tie, button down, and an option of skirt or pants with a blazer. Today, you wore your sequined jacket, the see through mesh shirt you had slept in, and leather pants. You might not have been the most vocal person, or the most outgoing, but no one could say you didn’t have an outlandish, loud fashion sense.

Liz had gotten the same idea apparently. She towered above you in shining black stilettos, her hair a frizzed mess upon her head. She sported a shining gold mini skirt, black patterned tights, and a golden jacket that matched her skirt, and a half see through black shirt that had a serious v-neck. When you had first seen her, picking you up outside your house, you had nearly fell down the steps.

Now you sat next to her in the car, fidgeting with the tight leather of your pants, feeling a bit regretful for being so outgoing in your clothes. Liz seemed rather comfortable though, so you didn’t say anything.

You had noticed however, that Jim dressed in a suit. A _suit_. You knew he was boring, perhaps a little bland in his dress, but seriously? A suit to a roller skating rink? In the very least his partner Johann wore a sparkling jacket. Besides that, he wore normal clothes.

It was a while longer till the four of you arrived at the rink. You’d gotten to know Johann better, who was majorly a pianist, but actually wanted to become a politician. You couldn’t agree with his life choices, but he was a kind man nonetheless.

“You brought the camera, right?” You nudged Liz, hoping she did because you certainly didn’t. Yours was still at school, safe with your teacher.

“No, I thought you did,” she answered slowly, staring mortified at the thought that you might’ve left a key to completing your assignment back in King’s Lynn. You paled suddenly, feeling rather sick. The assignment was due on Monday, and it was Saturday.

“I think I’m gonna be sick,” you whined, swaying slightly. Liz wrapped an arm around you, becoming a stabilizer to your faint body. She started a small tune, going, ‘la, la, la,” in a way that seemed vaguely familiar. After a second, when she stopped her singing, you recognized it from the other night when she’d sung to you.

The afternoon went as expected. You hyperventilated, Jim couldn’t get his camera to work, Liz got into a near fist fight with the man at the restaurant for not helping you out, and Johann began crying because the whole situation was getting rather messy and he didn’t even _know_ any of you. The four of you left rather quickly after Liz punched the man at the restaurant in the face.

“That was fun,” Liz said on the ride back, interrupting pure silence broken usually only by small sniffles and tears. A loud chorus of, ‘fuck you,’ and ‘stop it’ came from you, Jim, and Johann.

“And I can’t capture happiness without a camera,” you mumbled, curling up further in your back seat, away from Liz. All around you felt rather miserable, not wanting a bad grade so early in the year.

Liz thought for a moment, looking saddened by your bedraggled state.

“I have an idea,” she popped up, looking at you hopefully, as you, Jim, and Johann all in unison said, “NO!”

“Miami and Johann, my dearest friends, this idea is _not_ for you. I don’t know how you’re going to get this assignment done. This is for (Y/N),” she informed them very matter-of-fact-ely. You looked at her warily over your high knees and folded arms.

“Well if you two are going to be working, better get out now,” Jim informed you, bringing the car to a screeching halt in the middle of the street. You recognized your house, and your neighbors, and made your way to clamber out of the car. Liz followed, and two shut doors were finished off with a hurried “good bye!” from Jim.

“What’s your grandiose idea?” You asked her, flipping your hair out of your face and holding your arms around yourself in a feeble attempt to keep warm. You were starting to notice the days getting colder.

“You’re an artist. You can draw happiness. We can present that and make the excuse that we didn’t have a camera, I’m sure they’ll be forgiving,” she explained. Your mouth gaped open, looking at your house and then back at her.

“Wh- What?! First of all, how in the world do you know I draw, and second of all, I _highly_ doubt Mrs. Wilson will be that forgiving,” you said, taking a few steps closer to her in your anger, your fists curling, no longer paying attention to the volume of your voice.

“Calm down love,” she grabbed your hands in hers, “this assignment isn’t worth that much anyways, and if anything, we can sneak into the school early Monday morning, take a _photo_ of your drawing, and then hand that in. That’d be something they’d accept, since it’s technically a photo,” she suggested softly, her wild hair tickling the sides of your face as she leaned in, now taller than you in her giant stilettos.

“Um - gh- yeah, I guess so,” you blubbered, your eyes looking anywhere besides her face. Mostly looking straight past her shoulder and down the street. “But what am I going t’ draw?”

“Happiness, right?” You nodded. “You can draw something that makes you happy, or I dunno. How’s that?” She leaned back, finally, giving you room to breathe a little more.

“Hehhh… yeah,” you said, mildly delirious and definitely sweating.

Liz had lead you inside, the first time she’d been in your house in the past two months after your incident at the castle followed by your nightmare. Most of the time, the two of you talked at school. She led you up the stairs she remembered well, and into your bedroom to the left of the stairs. You switched on the bedside lamp, illuminating the room in a golden haze. Liz looked around, mostly at the floor, giving herself a wonderful shadow along her jawline. You swallowed thickly.

“I’ve been to your house a lot, how come I’ve never seen your cat?” She said suddenly, resting her hands on her hips and looking up at you. You stammered for a bit.

“Ah, I, um, she’s usually in the closet,” you said, turning around and pointing to the door just barely cracked open.

“Oh!” Liz said, her voice positively angelic, making your heart pump liquid gold blood as you watched her skip over to your closet. You stayed, stuck to the ground as she opened up the door, the light pouring into your mess of a closet and onto Spot, your cat.

She made a _prrt_ sound, looking up at who made the sudden disturbance. Liz’s face lit up, her smile happy and enlightening. Much unlike the sarcastic smile that was, unfortunately, very hot. No, this one was simply… poetically calming. You watched as she grabbed Spot from her resting area, cradling her ever so carefully and setting Spot down in her lap as she sat on the bed.

“Now (L/N), what makes you happy?” She looked to you, her blue eyes wide with delight.

“Ha, uh, yeaamm.. gh,” you said, grabbing a notebook from underneath your bed, and a pencil from off your nightstand. “I’ll… think of sssomething… it’s a surprise,” you slurred slightly, your emotions overcrowding your head and chest. You sat down, on the far end of the bed, attempting to avoid contact with Liz, who was sat near the pillows. She smiled absently at you, and went back to stroking Spot, who was now purring rather loudly.

_Happiness_ , you thought. _What makes me happy?_ You glanced around the room, eyes settling on Liz. The obvious choice. If anyone asked, you could say simply that she looked happy. You sniffed, and began sketching away.

She hummed, that familiar tune, her voice drifting onto other songs as she continued. It was the most pleasant, most distracting background noise ever.

“Can I know what it is yet? Your drawing,” she asked, her voice softer than ever as she attempted to lean as far as she could without disturbing Spot.

“What? It hasn’t been that long,” you told her, hiding the page.

“It’s been like an hour,” she said, frowning. You shrugged, sighing.

“Uh - yeah, um, sure,” you mumbled, taking your pencil in the opposite hand and handing her your sketchbook. You pulled your knees up to your chin, wrapping your arms around your legs. She looked at it, her eyes raking over your drawing with a judging look. You looked away, not wanting her to criticize you but knowing she would. You knew she probably would anyway - the proportions were off, and you couldn’t get the hand quite right, and the size of Spot wasn’t exactly realistic, but besides all that it was a drawing of her. It was plainly obvious it was her, and you hadn’t told her that yet, so you waited to gauge her reaction.

She giggled. Ever so slightly, quiet, and adoring. You gulped.

“Why’d you draw me?” She turned to you, her voice teasing and high.

“I, uh, hm, haa, hmm yeah,” you said, your brain short-circuiting for not the first time in front of her. She just snorted, looking back at the drawing.

“It’s beautiful,” she murmured, nudging your closed off body with the edge of your notebook. You looked up at her, the only part of your face visible being your eyes, the rest hidden in your folded arms. You untucked your body from its’ small position, taking the paper back from her. You were quiet, looking over the drawing.

“Y’think so?” You said, your voice a whisper as it cracked a little. You didn’t dare look at her.

“Of course,” she replied, just as quiet, setting a hand on your shoulder gently. She rubbed it, and you looked up at her, catching her smiling at you. You smiled back.

The next day, you snuck into school early, and submitted your very first last-second assignment.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I drew 'your' drawing of Liz and it's on Instagram, I unarchived it from my account. Here's the link:  
> https://www.instagram.com/p/By6Ew9yHe9K/  
> And if that doesn't work, look up todtart, and go to the earliest post.


	9. Forever and Always

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Liz wonders if you're friends or not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i love this series mainly because this scenario is totally a legit thing that could happen:  
> (Y/N): I've never had a best friend before  
> Liz: Don't worry, I'll be your best friend  
> (Y/N):  
> (Y/N): i've never had a girlfriend either-- 
> 
> one more thing; I don't like to do this, but it's sort of staying somewhat true to what Roger went through in his life. It's suspected he went through some abuse so I made Liz's relationship with her parents sketchy. Not abusive, mostly neglectful, which is honestly just as bad. Nothing is ever going to be explicit.
> 
> that's it! Enjoy!

“Photograph beauty,” Mrs. Wilson said, writing the words on the blackboard in front of the class. You blinked, continuing to watch as she underlined it five times. _Beauty_ , you repeated in your head, the immediate image becoming Liz sitting on your bed, her head leaned back comfortably with Spot on her lap. A common occurrence these days was thinking about her, so this came as no surprise. “Unfortunately,” she continued, “you’ll have to do that here, at school. I don’t trust you children after what happened with your last assignment.”

Many people had forgotten their cameras, like you and Jim had, and many had ‘misplaced’ their cameras. You did have to say though, it did take Gerry a whole lot of guts to straight up say to his teacher, “I broke the thing. Fell into a river.” Liz had informed you that Gerry was quite a bit older than the two of you, and had a tendency to mouth off to his teacher. Looking at him, wearing a loose leather jacket and too tight pants, you couldn’t imagine why.

“I _will_ however, allow you to go into the schoolyard if you so desire. That will help with the parameters of this assignment, I believe,” she finished off, setting the piece of well used chalk back on the desk.

As the crowd began to get up and scatter, you turned to Liz.

"What could photograph beauty mean?” You said, frowning and crossing your arms. She shrugged.

“I have an idea. Should be quick, if you don’t ask questions and do as I say,” she said, domineering and ever so sure of herself. You felt a fresh tingle go down your spine, and you nodded silently.

She grabbed the camera off the teachers desk, leading you out into the schoolyard. She made you lie down in the grass, silently pushing you down onto your back. She kneeled down, about two and a half or so meters away from you, one eye squinted as she looked through the camera towards you. You shot up.

“Are you taking a photo of me?”

“I told you not to ask questions. Lie down, Molly.”

You frowned, but lay back down, letting your face relax, breathing in the cold wind. You nearly shivered, but held back for the photo. Couldn’t risk it coming out blurry. It took only a second before she stood, helping you up out of the wet grass.

“I’m all wet now,” you whined, wiping your butt down.

“As the actress said to the bishop*,” Liz said, a humorous lilt in her voice. You shoved her, laughing.

“C’mon, let’s take this back,” you said, still laughing a bit with her, taking the camera from her hands. She nodded, sighing, and followed you back to the classroom. The rest of the students finished rather quickly, and you spent the rest of the class developing the photos. That was your favourite part, and Liz’s least favourite.

“You done yet?” Jim leaned over your conjoined shoulders, looking at the developing film.

“Yeah, actually,” Liz said, standing up and stretching. You looked away, making sure everything was set up correctly.

“I was thinking the four of us could head over to my place,” Jim said, looking at both you and Liz. You furrowed your brows, squinting at him.

“Four?”

“You, Liz, me, and Johann,” he turned around, pointing at his partner, who waved shyly at the three of you. Jim waved happily back.

“You really like the kid, huh,” Liz said, crossing her arms. Jim shrugged.

“‘e’s alright,” he said, before asking once more if the two of you could come over. You looked at each other, before both agreeing in unison.

Jim lived right in-between your house and the school, so it was a much shorter walk than it was to your house. For the most part, Johann remained rather quiet, with Jim and Liz doing the majority of the conversation. Jim’s arm was slung over your shoulder, his jacket tossed cooly over his other shoulder. Liz was dancing circles around the three of you, her laughter boisterous and unashamed. Every now and then she ruffled your hair, but the whole journey ended at Jim’s home.

“Home, mum! Brought friends,” Jim shouted as he opened the door, gracelessly letting his backpack slide off his shoulders and collide with the polished floor. Your mother and his mother were good friends, a family connection that apparently went back a ways, though how far you didn’t know. Either way despite this familial/friendly connection you always found yourself uncomfortable at his house. It wasn’t much a home as it was a place to stay, every surface kept shining clean and all shoes arranged in a neat order. Suffocatingly clean, your mother had called it once while intoxicated.

“Hello, Henry,” his mother, dressed in what you’d definitely classify as a 50’s dress, came out of the kitchen. The smell of fresh bread, quite plain but nice anyways, followed her wherever she went. You sniffed a bit, keeping your posture upright and your hands behind your back. His mother then addressed the rest of you, shaking your hands with a limp wrist. She smiled with thin lips, her eyes warm set upon you and cold upon Liz.

“Don’t forget to get a date,” she told Jim quietly, leaning into his ear. He promptly shoved her away, nodding.

“Yeah, I know,” he said, leading the group downstairs to his room in the basement. As always, his room was cold, made more so by the oncoming winter. The walls were made of black brick, which you supposed most likely helped to keep in heat, and his bed was probably larger than your parents bed.

“Why’d your mum call you Henry?” Johann asked, his steps light as he walked down the stairs.

“It’s my first name. Don’t really like it,” Jim shrugged, turning back to his room.

“What’s your mum going on with about a date,” you whispered into Jim’s ear.

“Wedding. I’ve already got a date, not sure mum will like her,” he whispered back to you, opening up his closet.

“Who is it?”

“Maggie. Thought she’d be the most suited for it. She does well in uh, formal situations,” he answered, pulling out a pair of decent sized boots. You were about to ask another question when Liz spoke.

“Whaddya need those for, Miami?” Liz motioned towards his boots. Jim grunted a bit as he sat down on the floor, pulling his school shoes off his feet to put the boots on.

“Thought we’d go down to the river. Mum gets pissed as all hell if I get anything besides these muddy though. Rest of you alright?”

You shrugged, sort of motioning a yes. Your mother wouldn’t mind you getting a little muddy as long as you did it with friends. Johann and Liz seemed to be fine, though you worried for Liz with her black pumps and stocking.

“D’you need shoes Lizzy?” Jim asked, finally standing up from tying his boots up.

“Never call me that again. I’ll be fine,” she crossed her arms, turning her head away and tapping her foot impatiently against the floor.

“Liz, you’ll get muddy,” you said softly, grabbing her arm in an attempt to be persuasive. Sometimes, by sheer force of luck and cuteness, you could really get your way. Her eyes darted to you, then back at the wall she was staring at, her face red and contemplative.

“Fine,” she spat out, slightly pushing you aside and raiding Jim’s closet. She pulled out a pair of shoes slightly better suited for hiking. They seemed to be more decorative shoes that you’d walk around town in, but they were better than small heels. The rest of you waited for a moment as she put them on, then headed up the stairs and with a small shout to Jim’s mother, you were out the door.

“How’s school been treating you?” Jim asked, avoiding a mud puddle as the four of you traipsed through a grassy field.

“Can’t find anything else to talk about, huh Miami? Always knew you were dull,” Liz said, lighting a cigarette between her lips, her brows furrowed in concentration. You rubbed your nose, feeling a little cold.

“No, I was just _wondering_. I happen to care about my friends day to day well being. Would you prefer I ask deeper questions?”

“Sure, why don’t you.”

“(Y/N), you believe in aliens?”

You stuttered, waving your hands a bit as you found no way to answer.

“Ah, I, um, seeeee, uh, hm. Ha,” you said ineloquently.

“Wonderful. Now how’s school been going?” Jim turned to you for a second before focusing back on the messy lack of path.

“Fine. I’ve got a 94% in Algebra 2, but the rest are doing fine,” you informed him.

“Oh, look I’m (Y/N), I’m upset because I’ve got all 100%’s except for in Algebra, oh NO it’s a 94, how will I EVER live with myself?! My mother will _kill_ me,” Jim mocked you, his voice high as he faked a sob and a cry. Liz laughed, but Johann stayed silent. You hardly noticed him.

“Shove off, Beach,” you mumbled, face red as you pushed him away. He stumbled a bit, his boots clunking together and splashing mud up your leg. You looked down, mouth wide as you faked indignation.

“Henry James Beach! My mother will have your head for this!”

“Yeah, if you don’t get it first apparently,” he said, his voce quivering in an act of fear. He began running away, his hands high in the air as he let out a shrill scream, before tripping over something hidden in the brush and falling flat on his face.

“Jim!” You yelled, racing over, being careful not to make the same mistake he did. “You alright?” You panted a bit, turning him over.

“Me mums gonna bloody kill me,” he whimpered, looking up at the grey sky. In the distance you could hear Liz laughing.

“You’re gonna be fine. Get up you louse,” you laughed, pushing him up onto his feet.

“You’re nasty, (Y/N). Won’t even lend a hand to a poor fallen man,” he sniffed, continuing on the lack of path, his mud stained backside an obvious sight. Liz quickly caught up with you, still laughing, followed by Johann who had taken some form of delight from the situation.

“Johann, what do you think of Jim?” You asked, your eyes focused on the ground trying not to trip on anything. The trees were growing nearer, a secret little haven you saw every once in a while with Jim. Usually it was during the summer months, and more often when you were younger.

“Oh, he’s… alright. I think he’s under a lot of stress honestly,” Johann shrugged dismissively. Your eyes widened. Usually no one could really tell that about Jim - you’d only found out when he told you.

“Ever thought of becoming a therapist? You’re awfully intuitive,” you suggested.

“Yeah. I have. But it’s not that hard to realize that about Jim. What with his dad wanting him to become a lawyer, his mum being the half neat freak she is, plus school pressures and having Liz as a friend probably isn’t that stress relieving-”

“Hey!” Liz seemed offended.

“-plus the fact that what he really wants to do is be a musician, and he hardly has any free time. I think he spends a lot of his time worrying about his friends.”

“That was a whole fucking analysis,” Liz said, rather impressed. She wasn’t entirely wrong. Johann just shrugged.

The three of you reached the grove of trees only about a minute after Jim had, the sound of the rushing river immediately calming your nerves, the cool scent of life filling your heart. Jim had his hand in the water, testing to see how cold it was. At this specific spot, the shore was sandy, and the water didn’t run quite as fast. On the other side of the river (which at this area was really only 3 meters across) there was a deep pool, where some fish resided. Overall, with hanging trees giving an especially gothic aesthetic, it was a child’s paradise.

“Bit cold?” You asked, looking at the quiet water. There was an absence of bugs that you took your time enjoying.

“Yeah,” Jim confirmed.

“Could’a told you that. Tis winter after all,” Liz said, kneeling down next to the water. She had a curious look in her eye, watching the water carefully as it ran slowly.

“It’s not winter _yet_ , we have like a month left,” Jim said, frowning a bit as he stood.

“Always so clinical,” Liz muttered, following suit and standing.

“What exactly are we doing here?” Johann, sitting on a low lying branch of a tree, asked.

“Usually Jim throws rocks in the water and talks abouthis life problems,” you said, fiddling with your now untucked button up.

“I _hate_ weddings,” Jim said pointedly, tossing a rock harshly into the water. You turned to Liz and Johann, eyebrows raised as if to prove your point.

“Why’s that, Jim?” You asked, settling yourself on a semi dry rock.

“You know what happened at the last wedding I went to.”

You let out a hum of acknowledgment.

“Fuckin’ bride with her one hour long speech vows,” he grumbled, picking up an especially large rock and letting it splash grandly in the water. Johann let out a snort, and Liz seemed shocked into silence.

“Who’s wedding are you going to anyway?” Liz asked, her voice mumbling from the cigarette she kept between her lips.

“Some cousin twice removed or whatever. Nothing huge.”

“I’m going to a wedding at some point too. I suppose I should find a date,” you added in, mentally going through a list of available people. Your only real friend was Jim, and he already seemed stressed enough. Liz was… not going to enjoy being invited to a wedding, you hardly knew Johann, and you were certainly NOT going with Belicia or Melina. Well, maybe Melina. You _really_ didn’t want to go with a classmate.

“When is it?” Jim asked, turning around to face you, a bit hard of breath from lifting and throwing the large rocks.

“Not sure. Sometime this month.” That gave some relatively large room, considering it was only the 10th of October.

“Hmm. Mine’s this weekend,” he said, being rather blasé about it. He chucked another rock in, this time about the size of his palm. It splattered safely away from your clothing.

“It’s Friday, Miami, doesn’t give you much time,” Liz noted from the sidelines, glancing down at her nails.

“I’m going to go check with my mum, see what time it is,” you said, plotting out a way to jump across the river. You supposed three meters was probably too far to jump.

“How long a walk is it from here to your house?” Johann asked, still sitting on the branch with his legs crossed.

“Oh, just across the field. I’ll be right back… as soon as I can cross this thing,” you said, muttering the last bit to yourself.

“If y’want, I can chuck you across it,” Liz suggested, looking up at you now. You laughed, shaking your head.

“I think I’m alright. How’d I used to get across, Jim?”

You remembered that sometimes, at midnight the two of you would sneak out and meet at the river, and one of you had to cross it at some place, and the bridge was just too far away (it really wasn’t, but where’s the fun in taking a paved road?).

“There should be a few rocks to cross on, a bit over there,” he said, pointing down the flow of the water. You nodded, humming your short reply as you started carefully walking your way down. True to Jim’s word, there was a rock path, and you quickly skipped across it, trying your damnedest not to slip into the freezing water.

By the time you ran across the field, got yourself looking clean enough and got into your house, it was around 16:05, and you knew your father would be home soon. It was a Friday, and he always came home for weekends. You opened the door into the living room, seeing your mother reading a magazine, fluffy pink slippers on and a black hat.

“Mum…?” You stepped in gingerly, hoping you weren’t disturbing whatever it was she was doing.

“Yes dear?” She turned to look at you, the magazine falling into her lap.

“First off, I was with Jim at the river. Hope you didn’t mind,” she nodded, smiling, “and my actual question is, when’s that wedding you mentioned earlier?”

Her eyes lit up, and a toothy smile graced her face.

“Yes! This Sunday! Oh, your cousin is getting married. You know your grandmother, on your fathers side? Her sister’s daughter is getting married. She’s abit old, but…” she veered off course, onto another subject, “have you found a date yet?”

You shifted on your feet nervously, your eyes blinking faster as you tried to come up with an excuse.

“Uh, well, um, no,” you mumbled, rubbing your hands anxiously together behind your back.

“Why don’t you go with James? He’s lovely company. I’m sure he isn’t busy.”

“No, actually, Jim’s already going to a wedding this weekend.”

“Strange,” she noted. “Are you sure it isn’t the same wedding?”

You furrowed your brows, thoroughly confused.

“It’s Jim’s cousin twice removed, or something.”

“You children always exaggerate things. If it was his cousin twice removed, it’d have to be as old as his grandchild.”

 _Oh_.

She seemed to notice your surprised face, because she continued.

“You are aware that you’re related to James right?”

You choked on your own spit, keeling over slightly dramatically.

“I’m _what_?!”

“Yes! Oh, it’s not a big deal. Go tell James it’s the same wedding, go find a date.”

You nodded, tightening your jacket around yourself.

“Spread the information!” She called out to you as you sprinted out the door, into the backyard, and through the field once more. You couldn’t see the sun due to cloud cover, but you could tell it was starting to set. The wind rushed past your ears, blocking all noises as you could feel cold muddy water begin trailing up your leg. You slowed as you entered the more tree covered section, finding your way back across the river and to your rock once more, panting.

“So?” Jim asked, sitting down and seemingly tired of throwing rocks angrily at the water.

“Um - it’s this Sunday. My, uh, father’s mother’s, um.. sister’s daughter is getting married. Mum thinks it’s the same wedding since we’re related,” you said passively, waving your hand as if that would make it more nonchalant. It apparently did not help that much, Jim’s eyes widening as his mouth fell open, his face unmoving from the shock.

“Wait, how?” Johann asked, finally standing up from his perch. You looked over, noticing that Liz had finished her cigarette, and that Johann was much muddier than he had been when you had left. You shrugged in response to his question, unsure exactly how you were related.

“Would explain why our families have been friends for so long,” Jim said quietly, his eyes moving to the ground in contemplation.

“Still need a date. Dunno why my mum is so insistent on that,” you sighed, rubbing your face tiredly with both hands. Who in the hell could you go with? For school dances you usually just asked Jim as a friend, and if he was unavailable, you simply did not go.

“I’d love to help you through this existential crisis, I _really_ would, but me and Johann have to head home,” Jim said, patting your shoulder affectionately. The bastard.

“It’s Johann and I, not me and Johann,” you corrected him snidely, feeling a little low from the whole situation. He just sneered at you playfully, grabbing Johann’s shoulder and turning the both of them away.

“Ta ta!” He called as he left, waving gently with his hand high above his head.

“Ponce,” Liz muttered, walking over to where you sat. She looked down at you for a bit, with you still staring at her shoes. It was very hard to look at her for some reason. “Need me to stay?” She asked, tapping your head awkwardly.

“No, no, it’s alright. I should head home anyways. Thanks Liz,” you grunted as you stood up, noticing her back up as you did so. You were silently grateful that you didn’t have to stand so close anymore.

“I’m gonna… head out, then. Belicia’s making dinner tonight and she adds cheese to every dish. Dunno how, but it works,” Liz laughed a little, and you smiled as you watched her. Unfortunately, she noticed, coughing a bit as she turned away.

“Bye Molly!”

“Bye, Liz,” you said quietly, watching her leave.

You walked back across the field, no rush this time, looking forward to both your father being home and the comfort of good food and warmth of fire. When you arrived, the fire was already crackling away, and it smelled as though your mother had made some sort of seafood dish for dinner. You greeted your father politely. You did love him dearly, but with him gone so often, it felt as though your relationship was purely professional. Your mother on the other hand, doted on your father, just as he doted on her, loathing to part with her every Monday morning. Observing their relationship, you smiled, hoping to have one as loving and as healthy as theirs. Dinner finished quickly, a flurry of conversation and good food, followed by your father telling you a story as you sat next to the fireplace, a picture perfect image of a happy family. You smiled a little, grateful for what you had.

It was a great contrast to what Liz had, as you would soon find out. Long after you had been tucked into bed, lights out and covers snuggled up to your chin to hide from the cold, there was a loud clunk against your window. It came two more times before you finally dragged yourself out of the covers, groaning as you put on your bedside slippers. You threw on a sweatshirt and a random pair of pants you had on the floor, stumbling over to the window. Waiting a moment to make sure that no more rocks would collide with the window as you opened it, you looked out of it. Liz was standing down there, wearing fuzzy blue pants, a button down shirt that matched her pants, and hiking boots. You blinked a few times in surprise before opening your window.

“Liz? What’s wrong?” You asked quietly, your voice hoarse from sleep. You poked your head out the window to get a clearer view.

“Let me up, love,” she said, more of a demand than a request. Her voice was shaking, whether from anger or sadness you couldn’t tell. You knew that you needed to get her up, and that was all.

“H-How?”

“I don’t know!” She practically yelled, her hands tightened into fists as she avoided your eyes. You swallowed, realizing that questions were not good for her right now.

“Um.. when I was younger, I used to climb down the lattice here,” you suggested quietly, tapping the structure right beneath your window. Liz cleared her throat before talking.

“Sounds good,” she said, voice curt as she stepped forward with purpose, and rather quickly scaled the white lattice. You stepped away from the window, watching as she crawled into your room. She brushed herself off slightly, before finally looking at you. Her brows were ever so slightly furrowed, eyes red but it didn’t seem like she’d been crying. Her nose and cheeks were also nipped red, but you assumed that was from the cold.

“Liz,” you murmured, sighing as your voice revealed the amount of veneration you felt for this girl. She seemed too broken down to notice.

“My dad’s back,” she said quietly, shoulders tensed up to her ears, arms holding herself carefully. Her thumb stroked her arm, an act you mimicked as you rested your hand on her shoulder.

“Sit down?” You suggested quietly. Without question and hesitation, she followed, sitting herself down on your bed. She was hunched over, curled in on herself as if she desperately wanted to disappear from view. You took a deep breath, thinking over your next words. Maybe you shouldn’t say anything at all, seeing as how all your next words would be questions, which she obviously wasn’t suited to deal with currently. After all, sometimes the best comfort is silence. Sometimes its touch.

You sat down next to her on her right side, your left fist clenched with anxiety. Maybe you needed to hold her hand, or just put your hand on her arm. Maybe you needed to avoid contact with her completely.

There were a lot of maybes.

You put your hand on her arm, near her wrist.

She turned her palm up, and you traced your fingers towards hers, lacing them together.

You swallowed thickly.

She did not look at you.

“Come with me,” you said suddenly, blinking quickly as a bright idea came to mind.

“What?” She spoke quietly, looking at you now.

“Come with me to the wedding. You can be my date, and it’s overnight. My mum won’t mind taking you along. She planned to take care of my date anyways,” you explained. It would give her an easy out from having to deal with her father, no matter how plain or horrific her problems with him were. You hadn’t asked, and you weren’t going to. It wasn’t your problem unless Liz decided she needed you, so until then you’d be support, not offense.

“Me? Go to a wedding? Um,” she said doubtfully, glancing between you and the floor. “I don’t have anything suited for a _wedding_.“

“Yeah but my mother does,” you said with a smile, winking. She stiffened entirely, her hand gripping yours tightly. You could feel her nails dig into you a little bit. She took a deep breath, rolling her shoulders back and unclenching her hand.

“Alright,” she said, looking straight ahead. You cocked your head to the side, standing. You moved to stand in front of her, still holding her hand. You tugged on it lightly.

“Let’s go for a walk, yeah?”

She agreed, and soon the both of you were walking down your street. You, in slippers, and her in hiking boots, standing shoulder to shoulder and yet not touching. You walked in silence, and after around five minutes of aimless wandering, Liz pulled out a cigarette box from her pocket.

“I’ve heard those aren’t very good for you, y’know,” you said quietly, nudging her a little bit. She looked at you as she put one in her mouth, pocketing the box.

“I saw that once in a newspaper,” was all she replied. Nonetheless, she pulled out a lighter and took a deep breath.

Your walk continued to a nearby park. It was empty save for a single man walking his dog, looking tired and annoyed. It was a small park, with rough grass and only around five tall trees. Wooden benches lined the grass, and there was a small water feature in the middle. The two of you sat down on a bench together, you sitting as near as you could to an armrest in order to give Liz an option of sitting near or far from you. The armrest beside you had several bits of graffiti carved into it, mostly hearts and initials.

She sat, by your approximation, as close as humanly possible to you. She was quiet for a while, fidgeting every now and then, before she spoke to you. She took her cigarette from her lips, letting it sit gently between two fingers near the ground.

“Are we friends?”

The question took you by surprise. _Of course_ you were friends. You’d let her sleep in the same bed with you, you had comforted her, she’d given you the time of your life doing things you never would’ve done without her influence. She was wonderful and confident in a way you’d never seen before, and it made you wonder where on _earth_ such a question came from.

“Yes, of course we’re friends,” you said quietly, trying not to sound too surprised.

“Forever?” She sort of touched you, more grabbing onto your pant leg, pinching it as if you’d run away. As if you were a mirage, one she needed to make sure was really there.

You couldn’t breathe.

“And always,” you whispered back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just found out that King’s Lynn is not what I thought it was. I didn’t look into where it was enough or what it looked like… and I thought it was a small town or something,,, it’s a city. My small town in love fic takes place in a city. I’d like you all to ignore this if you realized it earlier or are realizing it now - this takes place in a universe where King’s Lynn is a small town in the English countryside. I’m so disappointed in myself.
> 
> *Original version of the 'that's what she said' joke.


	10. La Fille Au Chevaux De Linne

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Weddings can be great fun... if you can remember any of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick warning: Dad says something mean to Liz, but it's not directly shown. Just talked about :)

Fortunately, your mother had been sympathetic. You hadn’t told her exactly why Liz was coming with you, but she caught that something was wrong, and was immediately welcoming. You made a mental note to thank her later when, upon hearing that Liz didn’t have a dress for the wedding, she took her into her room and let her pick from a variety of warm, winter wedding dresses. Why your mother had so much clothing was beyond you, but it was fortunate for Liz. After Liz had chosen her dress around midday (which she was adamant that you didn’t see till the wedding), your mother sat you both down.

“It’s an overnight trip as you both know. We’ll be staying in our cabin, along with the Beach’s. If you want, the both of you can take a friend along,” your mother explained, sitting across from the two of you, who were sat next to each other on the couch. You both looked at each other, Melina and Belicia immediately coming to mind.

“We have uh, two friends in mind,” Liz said, reading your thoughts. Your mother nodded, looking absolutely delighted.

“That’s good! They can come along with us, as long as they don’t mind a rather long train trip,” your mother said. You knew they wouldn’t mind, and Melina would probably jump at the chance to dress up all nice. “We’re leaving today, so I hope you’re packed,” your mother added.

“I’ll be right back, I just need to uh, go pack then,” Liz said, quickly standing up from the couch.

“I can drive you there,” your mother suggested, standing up as well, followed by you.

“That’d be nice.”

The rest of the morning was incredibly chaotic. Your mother and yourself drove to Liz’s house, though she wouldn’t let you enter. She came back out a few minutes later, fully packed, looking irritated and being trailed by her three friends, who were also packed. They piled into the car, and after a course of events so confusing and jam packed you didn’t remember them, you, Jim, Liz, Maggie, Melina and Belicia were all at the station with Jim’s parents and yours, carrying an embarrassing amount of luggage behind you.

“Mum, are you sure we’ll all fit in the cabin?” You whispered to your mother, watching as the train pulled into your platform.

“Of course you will. Might have to share some beds is all,” she shrugged. She turned to the group, leading them forwards and onto the train. It took a while to get settled on the near empty train, piling your luggage into the backs of the cart before taking your place on various tables.

“Do y’ have a record player at your place?” Liz leaned forward, both elbows on the table in front of you. You sat across from her, and beside Liz sat Maggie. Jim sat next to you, and Melina and Belicia seemed preoccupied in another seat.

“Yeah, we have some vinyls too. Did you bring some?” You asked, keeping your posture tight and upright to give Jim some room.

“Nope, didn’t want to risk breaking them,” Liz said, leaning back. Jim nodded in agreement.

“What kind of vinyls do you have anyways?” Jim asked, turning to you.

“Mostly Beatles and Elvis,” you said, looking at your lap awkwardly.

“Like… their original stuff or their later stuff?” Maggie asked.

“The Beatles? Mostly their original stuff, but I think we’ve got one record of their later music,” you replied, thinking back to the last time you were up at your cabin.

“Oh good, I don’t really like their later style,” Maggie rolled her shoulders back.

“Me neither, not at all them. Though I certainly don’t mind it,” Liz added at the end, eyes moving between you, Maggie, and Jim.

“I like both new and old,” Jim said, eyes closed and leaning back.

“What do you think, Molly?” Liz turned to you, and for some reason, Maggie started laughing. Liz looked at her, giving her a look of, “what are you doing?”

“Does- does (Y/N) even _know_  what Molly means?” Maggie asked through giggles, covering her mouth.

“No, don’t you dare tell either,” Liz threatened, pointing at her with a vindictive stare. Maggie nodded in agreement, calming herself down.

“So anyway, (Y/N), what are your thoughts on it, what they’re doing with their lives n’ all that?”

You paused, thinking of your reply.

“Who am I to be entitled to an opinion regarding a life I know nothing of?”

Maggie responded with confusion, Liz with surprise, and Jim with a resigned sigh.

“Right, well, how long do you think this ride is going to be?” Liz interrupted the piercing silence following your comment that deeply embarrassed you.

“Four hours,” Jim mumbled, half asleep. Liz looked at him, furrowing her eyebrows in confusion.

“He falls straight asleep in vehicles,” you explained to her.

“Shove off,” Jim said, pushing you towards the window. You just laughed, pushing him back a bit.

The ride concluded peacefully, followed by more chaotic shuffling as you finally fit into three separate taxis, and headed to your cabin. Each of you had decided to share a room with your dates, leaving you alone with Liz. You watched her unpack, trailing her movement. She moved sudden, and angry.

“He’s a real rotter, y’know,” she hissed after a while, turning around to you. You nodded in agreement to something you didn’t understand.

“I can imagine,” you said calmly, watching her pace. “Maybe it’d be best if you got some fresh air?” You suggested, gesturing towards the small balcony. She looked at you for a moment, taking a deep breath, before nodding. You led her outside, the cool air hitting your open skin immediately. Shivering a bit, you turned to her. She didn’t seem to be cold.

“You’re rather hot blooded aren’t you?” You said, noticing further that she was wearing a pleated light blue skirt with her button up.

“Comes with being hot as all hell,” she said with a smirk, her facade falling soon after. She looked at the ground one level below you, sighing deeply. You set a hand on her arm, hoping that it may provide some semblance of comfort.

“Why do you like me, (Y/N)?” She asked out of nowhere, after a few more minutes silence. You stopped your own thoughts, mulling over her question.

“You’re confident, and you’ve got new ideas, and while being absolutely extraordinary, you’re completely normal, and yet perfect,” you said, trying to sum all you thought of her in a single sentence. It didn’t come out quite right. She laughed though, and her smile made you feel a little better.

“Dad says people like me cause I dress like a 2 pence whore,” she said quietly, fingering patterns into the railing. You were a bit shocked. You could never imagine your own father saying anything mean or rude to you in any way. You did believe her though.

“Well your dad is a piece of shit,” you commented offhandedly. That made her snort, laughing brightly. You smiled, laughing a little as you watched her.

“You’re too kind,” she sighed, coming down from her laughter. She smiled at you, eyes sparkling as they met yours.

“Y’know,” you started, shuffling before continuing, “I think I’ve lived more in the past three or so months of knowing you than I have all my life. I think you’re pretty healthy for me.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure of that, you almost got killed,” she said bitterly, looking back at the railing.

“And you saved me,” you added quietly. An urge to comfort her came over you, and you felt as though you’d do anything to protect her. You probably would.

“I think we should get some sleep,” she suggested, opening the door for you. You thanked her, agreeing that sleep would probably do well. You left the room as she dressed, and she left the room when you did. You slipped under covers, holding a pillow tight to your chest to prevent accidentally grabbing onto Liz at night.

She did not share the same sentiment apparently, immediately rolling over and wrapping her arms around you. You choked on your own spit a little, but hid it with a cough. She sighed pleasantly, pressing her face into your back, mumbling something before falling straight asleep. You stayed, choked up, in that position till sunrise.

When morning came, you were the first to wake. Her arms still locked you in place, and you tapped her gently to awaken her.

“Liz,” you said softly, your voice hoarse from your sleep.

“Mmm,” she hummed, sleepily kissing your back, before sitting up fully.

It was about time that she gave you another heart attack anyways. Her hair stuck up in different directions, a complete mess with stunning eyes and perfect skin. You wanted to smack her right on the lips with one big kiss, but you stopped yourself as the thought came rolling in.

“What’s today?” She asked groggily, her voice still sweet and ringing well in your ears.

“Wedding day,” you said, flopping out of bed and onto the floor.

“We’re getting married?” She asked, looking at you confused. You rolled your eyes, laughing a little.

“No, my cousin or whatever is,” you informed, finally standing up, stretching. You wandered over to the closet, looking for the clothes you’d put there last night. You found some easy clothes to wear before you had to get spiffed up, as well as a pair of pants and a shirt for Liz. You took them out, throwing them at her.

“It’s illegal for us to get married,” you said, making sure the clothes left in the closet were neat and tidy.

“Discrimination,” she croaked, holding the shirt out in front of her. You laughed, leaving the room and heading for the bathroom to get changed.

When the both of you were fully dressed, you headed downstairs and to breakfast. Your mother had made coffee, saying it was the only thing you had left from the last time you were here. You’d never had coffee before, and neither had Liz, but she was willing to try. You weren’t so much, but she insisted, saying it wasn’t too bad.

It was mainly bitter.

“Does this have caffeine in it?” You asked, looking up at your mother from the table you sat at.

“You know, I’m not sure. I’ve heard some people say it does, but I’ve also heard people say it doesn’t,” your mother shrugged, turning back around to the skillet. A few moments later, she turned back to you, scanning you with a concerned eye.

“You look exhausted,” she noted, leaving the fryer to head for the cabinet. She rifled through it for a minute or so, you and Liz watching and exchanging confused looks. She came back with a small, blue bottle you recognized well.

“Seriously mum? Soda?” You raised your eyebrow tiredly.

“It’s an energy drink! And since we don’t have any tea, and I can’t have you falling asleep during the ceremony, drink this,” she handed it stiffly to you, sticking it in your face. You slowly took it, uncapping it and taking a few large gulps from it, all while looking her directly in the eye. She smiled, and returned to breakfast.

Liz was looking at you with the _most_  amused look on her face, smiling wide but soundless.

“Shove it,” you mumbled, taking another drink. It tasted a bit… muffled, or musty. “Mum, is this expired?”

“Look on the bottle,” she told you, not even turning her head. You shrugged, turning the bottle as you looked for a date.

“1959,” you groaned, slapping your forehead.

“Wow, it’s older than the Beatles!” Liz exclaimed excitedly. You hit her on the shoulder, silently shaming her. She however, just laughed, seemingly amused by your begrudged face.

“C’mon Molly, drink up,” she teased, leaning in. You felt yourself stiffen up as she got closer, her eyes warm and half closed, long eyelashes practically fluttering. You stammered, opening and closing your mouth like a dead fish. Instead of saying something fun in return, you took a large gulp of the drink. Along with breakfast, you finished the drink a few minutes later alongside Liz. Jim had just come down, along with Belicia.

She looked very different - her hair was long and definitely not as white as it seemed before, and she wasn’t wearing that old makeup that Liz had told you about. Without all that facade, she looked human, and to be in her late teens. Despite knowing your manners you stared at her, before Liz hit you, taking you away from the kitchen.

The two of you sat on the hearth, talking. Behind you, the fire burned happily, warming your backs. You waited for the ‘energy drink,’ as your mother called it, to kick in, along with the maybe-caffeine in the coffee.

You drifted off into a pleasantly warm sleep, head leaning against her shoulder. The crackling fire lulled you deeper, pulling you into a calming sleep.

You opened your eyes, getting a feel for your surroundings. You noticed nearly immediately that you were lucid dreaming, lying on a gently swinging hammock in a moderately warm day. Sun speckled the front yard, decorating it with colors you felt you’d never seen before. Spot sat on your lap, drifting off into sleep the same as you. A barely there breeze blew, tousling your hair every so slightly, and blowing golden locks into your face.

You turned to the right, seeing Liz lying next to you. She was looking to the side, at the large pine trees that grew at the cabin. Her attention to them didn’t waver, for which you were grateful. It gave you time to continue looking at her face, which you realized, was true to the original. In most of your dreams your friends faces were skewed in some way, but hers was not. You assumed it was because you spent a great deal of your time looking at her anyway.

“You know if you’re interested, I could tell you-“

“I’m not,” she said, interrupting you. She turned to fully face you, no make up on, looking as bright and at peace as you’d ever seen her. A rancid grin grew upon her face, making your heart accelerate with anticipation.

“I suggest we do something more exciting,” she murmured, her hand trailing feather touches over yours as she leaned in.

You jumped, the fire near you burning your skin.

“Alright there, Molly?”

You gulped, looking at the face that just seconds before you were near to kissing.

“Yeah,” you said.

Five seconds later you were serving cake at the wedding reception.

You blinked a few times, gravity taking over your job and dropping the plate messily onto a woman’s plate.

“What flavour cupcake is this?” She asked you sweetly, and you automatically replied, “champagne.”

There was no one behind her, so you took a moment to take in what in the world just happened. Liz sat nearby at a table that had been pushed against the wall, allowing room for a dance floor. A small quartet played in the corner, only three couples dancing. There were a few people at the pushed away tables, and a whole lot more outside. With a quick glance, you could tell it was because the bar was outside.

Liz was dressed in a short, satin blue dress that made your heart do something funny. The sleeves barely covered her shoulders, only being about five centimeters wide. There was a sash tied around her neck, dangling gently from the neck you were just now realizing was very kissable. The v-neck wasn’t severe, but it was laced, giving off such an innocent look that you would’ve never recognized her if her face wasn’t imprinted behind your eyes. On her wrist was another sash, tied elegantly just like the one around her neck. She seemed so pure and soft hearted, and while she might’ve rejected both labels, you knew she was at least the latter.

She looked at you, and you felt your throat clog up with emotions.

“You look like you’ve just woken up,” she commented, looking you up and down with a smirk.

“Uh - could I talk to you for a moment?” You walked out from behind the cake table, grabbing her undecorated wrist and pulling her out a side door. It was around sunset already, and you felt cold air nip brightly at you. Liz didn’t seem bothered by the weather, as always, simply watching as you took control.

“I think I did just wake up?” You said, finally turning to her. Her hair was slicked back and shimmering, even in the lowlight. You felt yourself take a shuddering, sharp breath.

“Calm down love,” she murmured softly, grabbing your wrists gently and swinging them back and forth. Her whole body began swinging softly, and you realized what song was playing.

Your mother was fond of jazz. She often played it in the house, so this gave you innate knowledge of old and new jazz love songs. This _also_  gave you the opportunity to know how to dance, as when your father was home, they would dance in the living room. Sometimes you would play piano with it, if you had the music learned.

The song was Misty, by Johnny Mathis. It wasn’t your favourite album of his, but this was special. Your grandmother had loved it, before she passed away.

“Liz, I -“

“Don’t you ever calm down?” She asked you, voice still sweet and lilting on teasingly. She came closer, putting a hand on your waist, and the other holding your hand. Her cheek graced yours, now swinging your whole body back and forth to the beat.

You might’ve blacked out again, hearing blood rush into your cheeks.

“I get misty, the moment you’re near… you can say that you’re leading me on, but that’s just what I want you to do,” she sang, morphing into humming against you. Your breath was beginning to feel ragged and uneven, but you took a deep breath, breathing in the perfume she wore. It was different, but it wasn’t bad. You rather liked it, but it smelled expensive.

She pulled back from you twirling you beneath her arm, then twirling you back in so your back was pressed against her chest. Her arms wrapped around you, one holding your arm. She swayed with you once more to the beat that you could barely even hear anymore.

The song faded out with piano, and plucked strings of what you assumed was a violin.

She let go of you, smiling brightly at you as if she’d just been refreshed. You, on the other hand, felt the exact opposite. Stifled, filled far too full with overbearing love and anxiety.

“I wanted to tell you that I think I blacked out for however many hours its’ been since breakfast, when my mum gave me that drink,” you told her, voice much calmer than you felt. You thanked god for that.

Her eyes widened, and she froze, hands still clamped around your arms.

“So… you don’t remember the last, what, ten hours?”

“Is it really nineteen?” You asked horrified, mouth dropping. She pressed her lips together thinly, pulling you further away from a building and to a bench more in the forest than it was in the cabin that the reception was at.

“Let me catch you up on what happened,” she said matter-of-factly, spinning a rather long story.

You had apparently, after around nine, gotten incredibly confident. She had asked you if the coffee had caffeine in it, and if it had kicked in, and you had run upstairs. Later you all got dressed, getting a cab to the ceremony which took place ‘over on that hill.’ You had been very excited about the fact that this was in a forest, and had gotten very touchy on her.

Liz paused her storytelling for a moment, taking in your reaction. She took a deep sigh that sounded a lot like disappointment before she continued.

You had luckily behaved during the ceremony. You sat still, but fidgeted quite a bit. Later, you had attempted to get alcoholic drinks for you and Melina (since she was the youngest looking besides you) but ultimately failed, thank god. After that you said you’d serve cake if needed, and you were taken up on the offer.

“At least nothing… disastrous happened,” you said hesitantly, wondering if something had and she was omitting such details.

“Yeah. I made a few jokes that I’m sad you’ve forgotten,” she sighed sadly, pulling a carton of cigarettes out of her clutch. You watched with interest, noticing mesmerized how her lips pursed lightly around the stick, sucking in as she lit it.

“You could tell me some of them if they make sense?”

She looked at you for a moment, before shrugging.

“Mostly just this one; I thought you had very sensible shoes,” she leaned in, over pronouncing the last three words. You knitted your eyebrows together, trying to remember what that phrase meant.

You distantly recalled that it meant that you were gay.

You scoffed, shoving her.

“Don’t be rude,” you laughed, feeling more light hearted than you had before. Liz laughed with you, regressing into a kind smile up at you.

“I also said I like your outfit,” she added quietly, biting her lower lip. She leaned low towards you, the neck of her dress coming down slightly. You caught yourself quickly, directing your eyes to her face.

That didn’t feel much better.

It had to be just you, because to you it seemed as though she was giving you the most lewd, sexual look you’d ever seen. You swallowed thickly, trying to remember what it was she said.

You laughed shakily, looking towards the ground. Her face made you too warm.

“Thank you, you look, uh, nice as well,” you stammered, smiling intermittently between sharp breaths.

“I know. You said earlier that I looked so hot that the equator looked like the north pole,” she snorted, leaning her head on the palm of her hand, elbow on her knee.

“Oh god,” you let out a strangled whimper, digressing into shameful pile of human flesh.

“No, just me,” she teased, nudging you with her shoulder.

“Did anyone notice?” You asked, your words dripping with shame.

“Nope,” she said cheerily, patting your back.

“Anyway,” she said after a long silence of you nearly crying from embarrassment, “want to go dance?”

“No thank you, I don’t dance,” you lied, though it was partially true. You knew how to dance, but you never applied it. It was all technique and no repertoire or practice. Still, she stood, lending her hand to you. You took it, and stood.

When you returned there were a few more people dancing. All were elegantly dressed, but ties were undone, shoes were taken off, and various shawls and jackets had been shirked. A song you knew well, but couldn’t recall the name to at the moment, was playing.

“Sure you don’t want to dance? Otherwise I’ll ask Melina,” Liz stuck her noise in the air, a hyperbole of superiority. But you just laughed, shaking your head.

“I don’t dance,” you repeated, going to stand in the corner. Liz frowned, disappointed, and left to look for Melina. You stayed where you were, occasionally stealing a cupcake from the cake table. From your corner, you watched more couples join on the dance floor, eventually spotting Liz dancing wildly with Melina. Neither of them were dancing coordinately, but they seemed to be enjoying themselves, and that was enough.

About an hour later, your mother came up to you, saying that it was probably time to go. You agreed, rounding up your various friends with help of Jim.

Liz might’ve done a good job of pretending she was a sweet little girl in front of your mother, but she was having trouble now. You assumed it was because she was drunk, swaying back and forth on the ride back, looking like she was going to throw up every time you went over a bump. Luckily you got back to your cabin without incident.

You directed her up the stairs carefully, laying her on the bed and pulling out your respective sleep clothes.

“You don’t even know what you’ve done, I haven’t got a right,” she half-mumbled half-cried, her head craning upwards to the ceiling. You turned around from the closet, watching her closely.

“S’ not your fault I suppose. Dunno why I’m still angry,” she whimpered, punching the bed beneath her.

“Liz, what did I do?” You asked quietly, setting the clothes down on the end of the bed. You sat next to her, feet on the ground but looking at her.

“I - I can’t say, you have to, and I dunno when you’re - you’re gonna be able to, you’re so dumb,” she spluttered out, before correcting herself to, “I mean you’re a coward. You’re never gonna tell me about the - the thing again.”

“You’re drunk, I don’t think you’re remembering things correctly,” you said, pressing your lips together tightly.

“I’m not remembering things bad! You’re the one not remembering things at all! All that progress n’ shit… gone,” she yelled, before descending into a puddle of very sudden tears.

“Oh, uh,” you stammered, watching her sob into her hands. Gingerly you pried her hands off her face, pulling her close to you. She pressed her face into your shoulder, quiet hiccups and sobs puncturing heavy silence around you.

She held her position for a while, even after her sobs had wracked her body sore, quiet tears still pouring from her eyes.

“Liz, do you need some water?” You asked, remembering that alcohol could dehydrate you, and with the amount of water she had just lost with tears, she probably was thirsty.

“Please,” she croaked, but she didn’t let you go. You sat for a moment waiting to be released, but when she didn’t let you leave, you slowly peeled her hands off your shoulder and waist, standing up. You smiled at her, but she looked away, sniffing. You came back two minutes later, a glass of water in hand.

“Can you tell me why you were so sad?” You asked, watching her take small sips from the glass.

“I can’t, you have to… do something,” she murmured hesitantly, looking up at you for a second before focusing once more on her water.

“Let’s get you to sleep then?” You suggested quietly, getting up from the bed to hand her the clothes you’d gotten. She nodded, thanking you quickly. She dressed in front of you, but you quickly left out of shame, changing in the bathroom down the hallway. When you returned she was already asleep, so you joined her. You mulled over the events that had just happened for an hour, before finally falling asleep.

The next morning, she awoke first, shaking you awake.

“Don’t drunk people get hangovers?”

“Not me, dunno why,” she shrugged, smiling light heartedly. You eyed her suspiciously, remembering the events of last night.

“I’m, uh, sorry about the breakdown I had last night. I wouldn’t have reacted so violently if I wasn’t drunk,” she said quietly, the sheets clutched tightly in her hands.

“Yeah, what were you crying about anyway?” You asked, hoping she’d give you a straight answer.

“Don’t remember,” she laughed, pushing herself off the bed. You chuckled, but couldn’t help feeling as though she was lying. You hoped your intuition to be wrong.

The morning continued much like it did yesterday, however your mother did not comment on you looking tired. While you doubted it would happen again, you were thankful she didn’t make coffee that morning. Belicia and Jim came down at the same time (you assumed they simply woke up at around the same time), followed by Maggie, and an hour later, Melina. You and Liz sat on the couch simply talking, before your mother berated you for not being packed. In a weak retaliation you packed, but very messily.

Liz fell asleep very quickly on the train. To your own luck and disappointment she leaned on the window, not on you.

“So, darling, dearest (Y/N), when _ever_  are you going to confess?” Jim leaned forward sweetly, resting his head in the palms of his hand. You sputtered, curling in on yourself and away from both him and Liz.

“I don’t - know what you’re talking about,” you stammered, crossing your arms. You looked at Melina, who was sitting across from you, hoping she didn’t catch on to what Jim was talking about.

“Oh, you know, the whole,” he made dramatic kiss-y faces, “thing.”

You scoffed, shrugging your shoulders.

“You’ve got a crush on someone?” Melina asked, looking thoroughly interested.

“No,” you said, at the same time that Jim said yes.

“I’ll take that as a yes. Who is it?” She smiled coyly, obviously enjoying herself.

“None of your business,” you grumbled, feeling sweat build on your palms. You had no idea if Melina was good at keeping secrets or not.

“Liz, isn’t it? You poor thing,” Melina leaned back, sighing. She checked her nails, before resuming looking at you. “She’s got a habit of cheating, all that fun stuff.”

“There’s no such thing as cheating with friends. That’s what she is, after all, isn’t it? We’re friends,” you snipped back, fully both scared an annoyed.

“Oh of course! I’m just saying for future reference.”

“I dunno, Liz hasn’t really been sleeping around much lately. Maybe (Y/N)’s changed her?” Jim added, tapping Melina on the head. She seemed to give it a moments thought, before slowly nodding.

“You’re right. Didn’t think I’d ever say it, but you are,” she said wistfully.

“That’s besides the point. We aren’t dating, and we never will,” you said firmly, pressing your finger into the table.

“Really? That’s a shame,” Liz mumbled, half asleep. Jim let out a belt of a laugh, throwing his head back.

“When’d you wake up?” He laughed, leaning forward.

“About two seconds ago,” she sighed, rubbing her face. “What are we talking about?”

“Nothing,” you said immediately, slapping your hand onto the table.

“Whatever you say Molly,” she murmured, promptly falling back asleep. You groaned, rubbing your face with your hands.

“I think you’re getting a bit soft Molly,” Jim joked, smiling cockily.

“I’ve always been soft, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you mumbled behind your hands. Melina laughed, quickly agreeing with you.

To your luck Liz stayed unconscious for the rest of the trip, only waking up to groggily help unload the suitcases from the above racks. When everyone had returned to their designated houses, she asked if you wanted to get ice cream with her. Who were you to decline ice cream with a beautiful girl?

“This is awful nice of you,” you noted to her, taking a long lick from your cone. She shrugged, making a dismissing sound.

“Not a big deal,” she mumbled, taking a bite of her own ice cream. She had gotten chocolate, while you had stuck with old reliable vanilla.

“Still, thank you,” you said, smiling at her. She nervously returned it, looking away as soon as she could. Something must be wrong, you knew that, so you took a few deep breaths preparing for a heavy conversation.

“Is everything alright?” You asked quietly, setting a hand on her shoulder. She tensed just slightly, looking at you.

“Yeah, of course. Just - thank you, for this weekend. I know it was a little turmoil filled, but thank you.”

You laughed a little, thinking it a bit silly for her to thank you for what was really a wonderful weekend.

“There’s no need to apologize,” you told her, scooting closer, “I enjoyed my time with you.”

She glanced awkwardly at you, smiling.

“Thank you.”

“You already said that,” you laughed.

“Oh, shut up,” she shoved you, finally laughing with you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys :) I sort of want to do a story on Melina. I'm not sure where I'd find the time, but it'd be about her being in a relationship with Steve (Mary Austin), as well as Trixie (Paul Prenter) and Belicia (John Deacon). Eventually she'd probably end up with Jane (Jim Hutton). What would you think of that? I'm not even sure if I'd do it, since I'm swamped with other stories. Loads more coming lovies!


	11. Questions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It feels like there's a great big plot afoot. Has everyone always been this suspicious?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> really tried to capture teenage angst and idiocy in this one lads enjoy

Liz had gone home after your short outing, telling you happily that her parents would most likely be gone. For her sake you hoped they were, albeit that you didn’t know how bad her parents were. The next few days you saw Liz only in class, the both of you mostly screwing around (which damaged your reputation as a perfect student, but Liz promised she would try not to distract you). On the Thursday after the wedding, you were approached on your walk home by a rather cute girl you recognized five minutes later to be Belicia, which was embarrassing, but you hadn’t given any indicators that you didn’t know her.

She was dressed out of her odd shrouding black gown, dressed in grey high waisted pleat pants that made her look very long, and platform heels. They were paired with a white button down and ascot. She also wore a long coat, which was suitable, considering it was snowing. It made her look all very professional, slim, and overall like a young businesswoman. She certainly knew fashion if she wanted to.

"You’re pretty good friends with Liz,” she said, hands folded neatly behind her back. She smiled up at the sky, seeming distant, as though she was daydreaming. She probably was.

“You’re pretty good friends with Melina,” you counteracted. She gave you a quick glare before giggling.

“You could say she brings out the best in me,” she answered simply. You nodded, fully understanding her meaning.

“I was actually wondering about your relationship with Liz,” she said, looking down at you. You looked up, realizing she was not a great deal taller, but tall enough to be intimidating. You nodded, hoping she’d continue.

“She’s been acting oddly for the past few days. Usually I wouldn’t worry myself, she works herself into fits over boys and yells about girls, but she’s been quiet, and that means trouble,” she closed her eyes, thinking for a moment before continuing, “Liz is never quiet. Did she say something to you that’s odd? Did you say something?’

You admired her ability to be direct about her questioning, however much it frightened you.

“No… well, yes, but it’s confusing. She got pretty drunk at the reception-“

“I noticed.”

“- and she kept crying about how I was really dumb, something about progress gone, and she was really upset about the whole thing. It was just confusing, all around.”

Belicia nodded sagely, as if she knew exactly what was happening. You sure wished you could nod sagely about this situation because you were dumber than a doornail when it came to this (currently).

“And if I remember correctly, you blacked out for most of the day?”

“Uh, yeah, how’d you find out?”

“Liz told me,” she smirked at you. You laughed, nodding as you realized that _of course_ that’s how she knew. Liz wouldn’t miss the opportunity to make fun of you.

“Well, it’s good to know you’re more aware of your emotions than Liz is. It’s odd, really, she’s usually good with emotions. At least expressing them,” Belicia sighed, looking contemplatively at the sky again. You cocked your head to the side, confused.

“What do you mean?”

“You obviously know that you’re in love with her,” she said dismissively, making you choke up.

“I am _not_  in love with her! She’s just… pretty,” you defended yourself poorly, flipping your hands about.

“Do you want to just wanna have a good shag with her then, or do you want to make her tea?”

Both, obviously.

“That proves nothing,” was all you said in reply.

Belicia laughed, patting your shoulder. She stopped your walking, turning to face you fully.

“I have a few secrets of love that you might like. Rule number one,” she stood up straight, looking more and more professional, “absence makes the heart grow fonder. Easy one to begin with. Rule number two, it’s scientifically proven that when you find someone you love, you’ll see something in them that no one else can see, and they will see the same in you, even if the both of you are entirely normal.”

Shit, that was definitely something you found in her.

“Rule number three,” she interrupted your thoughts, “if you’re mad at someone for more than three days, it’s not real. Rule number four, don’t get back together with someone you broke up with! There’s a reason for the split. That rule doesn’t… really apply. Right now.”

“Is.. that it?” You asked hesitantly.

“There is a fifth rule, but it doesn’t currently apply.”

“… can I know it?”

Belicia sighed tiredly, nodding.

“Always be specific when you lie.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“I said what I said. Happy? Now please, for the love of God, fix Liz? None of us like it when she’s quiet. It’s unsettling. I don’t care if you make her moan to the heavens in the house while the rest of us are in it, just _please_  fix Liz,” she smiled, patting you twice on the shoulder before turning and leaving before you could ask her anything more.

You blinked quickly a few times, mouth agape, before turning and slowly walking the rest of the way to your home.

There wasn’t anything _wrong_  with Liz to begin with. Not that you’d noticed. She was happy, exciting, and loud as always in class, though much more touchy than she usually was. You thought maybe Jim knew something about it, so you veered down a shorter path towards his house.

The pristine white painted house loomed over you, its’ character demanding and perfect. Taking a deep breath you rolled your shoulders back, knocking on the door.

Jim popped out, hair messed up and tie half undone. At first he looked offended, but then he realized who you were, and the anger dropped from his face.

“(Y/N)? Something wrong?”

“I just had a quick question,” you said, attempting to imitate the professionalism that Belicia held.

“Right, well come inside. Johann is already here.” He opened the door, letting you inside. You nodded stiffly, taking a single step into the house before he shut the door behind you.

“We’re working on the photography project, he should be in the backyard,” he informed you.

“I just wanted to ask if you’d noticed anything weird about Liz recently. Belicia asked me about it, and then asked me to fix it.”

Jim shrugged a bit, stuffing his hands deep into his pockets. He didn’t meet your eyes as he shifted his weight from foot to foot, a reply stumbling past his lips.

“Uh, yeah, it’s… she’s been quiet I suppose,” he said. You frowned, noticing that he was practically never like this unless he had something big to hide. If it was something smaller he’d be cocky about it, but this must’ve been something important.

“Jim, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing! Listen, I think maybe you should just confront her. Ask her about it,” he wrapped an arm around your shoulders, leading you out the door, “be kind, maybe ask her to dinner, you know, the usual.”

“Ask her to dinner?” You asked, confused as he shoved you out the door with a brisk ‘good bye.’

You went home after that, uncertainty plaguing your thoughts as you attempted to form a plan. Your mother had greeted you at the door happily, asking where you’d been.

“Got stopped by Belicia on the way home, then went to Jim’s. Now I’m supposed to look for Liz,” you told her tiredly, setting your backpack on the floor.

“(Y/N), that you? I was just having dinner with your mum,” Liz’s voice called from the dining room, making your mouth fall open with betrayal and surprise.

“Lucky for you she’s already here,” your mother said, directing you to the dinner table, sitting you down next to Liz.

“Need something from me Molly?” She asked with a clean smile, flapping her napkin primly in the air before letting it fall in her lap.

“Uh - Belicia, she’s worried… about you,” you trailed off, watching a large pan of lasagna being set on the table by your mother. Liz didn’t seem to pay much attention to you, eyes fixed on the dish. You could practically see her salivating, watching intently as your mother cut it open, setting a piece down on each of your plates.

“Why’s that?” She asked, still fixated on her meal.

“She says you’ve been quiet and that that’s bad,” you said, picking up your fork and starting to eat. Liz ignored you, fully engrossed in her food.

“How’s school going?” Your mother asked.

“Wonderful, (Y/N) is an excellent photographer,” Liz said, winking at you. You quickly looked away, feeling your cheeks tingle with a familiar sensation.

“I’ve always thought (Y/N) could go into photography, y’know, around the age of 18,” she turned, now addressing you, “your photos are very good.”

“Thanks,” you mumbled through a mouthful of food.

Dinner was beginning to feel very awkward, so you fused yourself out of reality, hiding in your own dreams. They mostly consisted of Liz, which didn’t help your current situation. Fortunately, nothing too embarrassing happened before Liz followed you upstairs to your room.

“Anyway, you said that Belicia needed something from you, or me? What was it?” She sat on your bed, crossing her legs primly.

“Uh, just that she’s worried about you. Everyone’s been acting strange,” you grumbled, falling back onto your bed with your back.

“Whadd'ya mean?”

“I’m not sure, I feel like they’re all insinuating we’re a couple?”

Slowly you faced each other, and while your eyes widened in horrified shock and revulsion at your own thoughts, she seemed rather calm.

“Obviously not,” she said, the tone teasing. She seemed to find some hilarity in the situation.

“Um - yeah,” you said with a cracked voice, feeling utterly dismayed that she said _obviously not_. “I don’t think I’d ever date you, no offense,” you said, and with such seriously that it astounded both you and her.

“Yeah no, it’s fine. I’m not into you like that either,” she said slowly, her brows furrowed in perplexment and confusion.

“Yeah. SO anyway,” you croaked, attempting to change the subject, “they’re worried about you being quiet. I haven’t really noticed that, but I’m not very observant.”

That was a lie. You were observant and you knew it, which was a talent of observation in itself. She had not changed, in fact maybe had become more flamboyant. It was everyone else that was acting strangely, so maybe you ought to have confronted them while you had the chance.

“I can assure you that I’m fine,” she laughed, leaning in close before sitting back up.

“Yep. Thought so. So, um, are you going home tonight?” You asked, not even hoping she’d stay the night this time. After all, your hope had virtually been smashed, destroyed, decimated, and by all accounts, burned to ash.

“No, I thought I’d stay here,” she said reflectively. “I sleep better with your cat.”

You laughed, eyes falling to the floor. Looking at her had effects on you that you wished would just _go away_.

“Gonna sleep up here?” You asked, patting your bed.

“Nah, think I’ll just sleep on your couch,” Liz sighed, standing up with a pep in her step.

_Oh_.

“Alright,” you said.

You felt fuzzy the rest of the evening, and not the good kind in your heart when she came near. It was crawling all over your skin, digging nasty rivulets of poisoning ideas into your brain and planting seeds of doubt that didn’t take long to reap the detriment from.

Overall, minus the dramatics your dizzy brain came up with, you felt very sad indeed. Out of place, generally dysphoric, and simply very wrong. Despite the fact that you usually slept alone, your bed felt empty, and you yourself felt never more alone than you did that evening, tossing and turning in the dark blue sheets your bed wore.

_She’s just downstairs. Say hello to her. Claim you couldn’t sleep._

You thought of many excuses. All ended in theoretical fantasies, where you’d magically have a deep and meaningful conversation, and she would kiss you, or if it came to it, you kissed her.

Wishes are not to be if the time isn’t ripe, is what you told yourself. It was the one coherent thought you had had all night, so you wrote it down in a small bedside notebook.

Was this going to be the rest of your life? Trapped in an easy escapable room, begging for release from cold grips of tormenting death? Wondering when you’d ever feel the light of the sun as you did with Liz again? Questioning everything you were and everything you felt?

You woke up in the morning feeling much better. You would see the sunlight again, and the cold slimy grips of the dead were not knocking on your door anytime soon. If Liz didn’t like you now, you’d _make_  her like you. The best version of yourself.

You also awoke that morning to a large kiss on the cheek from Liz, wearing that sheer pink ‘nightgown’ your mother gave her, so your plans were quickly abandoned.

“School time,” you said weakly after she’d done that. She nodded with a pompous smile, heading to the bathroom to redress.

When you had gotten ready, and she had gotten ready, you walked out the door together, and began walking separate ways.

“Oh, you’re that way?” She asked, turning back to you.

“Yeah, and you’re, uh, that way,” you replied awkwardly.

“See you tomorrow then! Or tonight,” she winked, before heading to her school.

Was this going to be life from now on? Just black and white ‘she loves me, she loves me not’ rose petals?

_Jesus Christ,_ you thought to yourself. _Fuck Liz._

 

 

.

 

 

 

“I’m giving up on her,” you told Jim over the phone. You were sat on the couch, lying on your back and twirling the cord in one hand, holding the phone to your ear with the other.

“You’re _what_?” Came Jim’s staticky voice over the phone, a near screech of bewilderment.

“She’s not into me. I can tell that. She might’ve been at one point, but she’s sleeping on the couch, and she laughed at me saying you were insinuating we were a couple.”

“I never insinuated anything.”

“In the least Belicia did.”

“So wait, she _laughed_  at you?”

You nodded, before remembering.

“Yep.”

“Hold on a second.”

There was rustling, a loud but distant scream of, ‘fuck,’ a few dial tones, and then his voice again.

“Liz what in the HELL are you-“

“Jim?”

“(Y/N)?”

“Yes,” you confirmed, on the brink of bursting into laughter.

“So this isn’t Liz?”

You snorted.

“I’d assume so, yes.”

“Fuck. I’ll be just a second,” Jim said, and you were promptly put on hold. You glared at the phone, but waited diligently. Quite soon after there was another tone, and you put the phone back up to your ear.

“Liz I’ve been trying to get to you-“

“Still me,” you said quickly.

“Holy FUCK!”

Jim finally got it right, you assumed, because you didn’t hear from him again for the next ten minutes. In that time, you had fetched yourself a bag of crisps and turned on the television. Your mother was fortunately gone that evening, so she couldn’t berate you for eating crisps right out of the bag, nor for staying up and watching television.

“(Y/N)? You there?” Jim’s voice came through the phone that lay on your chest. You scrambled, letting the bag fall to the floor (upright, you didn’t make a mess) as you grabbed the phone, pressing it to your ear.

“Yep,” you said in a cheery voice.

“Good. I think I’ve solved it,” he said with a half wicked laugh. The other half of his laugh sounded humored.

“So, what was it? You didn’t… tell her anything, right? You wouldn’t do that to me,” you added to the end quickly, hoping desperately he wouldn’t break that code.

“Didn’t say a word to her. I just told her not to be mean to you and tease you,” he explained, and you heard him snort on the other end.

“Right. If I’ve found you’ve done anything else -“

“I can put you on with her right now! Swear to God I didn’t do a thing.”

You hesitated, mulling your decision over, before agreeing.

“Hello dearest!” Liz’s bright voice came from the other end. You’d never called her before, and her voice was very rough over the pone. Still high, though.

“Hi Liz. What did Jim say to you?”

“Told me not to be mean to you,” she laughed sweetly, and you could imagine her on her bed, taking your call on her back. For some reason your image of her was wearing bright red lipstick, and chewing gum while giggling coquettishly.

“Is that it? Awful long for a ten minute conversation,” you said, your voice growing unusually low and growly.

“Took a while for him to explain to me that teasing isn’t a thing everyone likes. Took a while for me to explain to him that a woman can in fact orgasm,” she said.

“That didn’t happen!” Jim said hurriedly, a loud crashing sound on the other end following his words, then trailed by a quiet, ‘damn it.’

“Sure it didn’t, Jim. Thanks for the help that I didn’t ask for anyway. I should go,” you sighed. They both said good bye, and you bid your own farewell before hanging up.

Your mother would be returning home soon, so you cleaned up, putting the phone back on the counter.

As you expected, she returned home around twenty minutes later, seeing you fully asleep in bed, though you were far from it. She came close to you so you closed your eyes, and she landed a kiss on your temple. You smiled as she left.

Fifteen minutes later, there was knocking at your window. With a groan you sat upright, covering your blanket over your chest. Just in case. Turns out, as your vision cleared, it was, because a face was peering in through the pitch black, making you nearly fall off your bed.

“Molly! You okay?” Liz asked, putting her hands around her eyes like goggles in order to see in. She pretended to fix the focus on them, smiling brilliantly when she spotted you. You shakily wrapped your comforter all the way around yourself, waddling over to the window to open it.

“I’m fine! Is this going to become habit? You just coming into my room whenever you please? One day you’re gonna find me naked! What if my sheets weren’t fully covering me?” You ranted at her in a harsh whisper yell, directing her over to sit on the empty bed.

“Oh no, I’m fine by the way. Didn’t fall off your wall fence,” she said, raising her hands in sarcastic defense.

“It’s a lattice, and there’s no ice. Why are you here?”

“Wanna go for a walk?”

“ _Why_?“

You looked out the window. It was dark and snowing, the light from your room reflecting off the flakes.

“Honestly? I was bored. I wanted to see you,” she said outright.

“Why me?” You asked. She was often like this, favoring you above others yet still not explaining why.

“You’re my best friend, put some clothes on, let’s _go_ ,” she said, throwing you clothes and urging you towards the window. You frowned, but ordered her out the window so you could change. She obeyed, and soon the both of you were repeating the same walk that gave you mild deja vu.

“You ever been skinny dipping before?” She asked, kicking a rock down the empty street as you walked.

“No, and I don’t plan to anytime soon,” you answered curtly.

“What’s got you all riled up?”

“Nothing.”

“Was it because I woke you up?” She fake pouted.

“You didn’t wake me up,” you mumbled, turning away so you wouldn’t melt at the sight of her.

“Tell me what’s on your mind then,” she requested softly, folding her hands together in front of her. She imitated a sweet schoolgirl perfectly.

“Fucking _turtles_. There’s so many types of them and the mere fact that we have a type that was alive during the time of the dinosaurs? That’s absolutely fascinating, it’s -“

“I’m really not interested in the turtle dinosaurs,” she said quickly, pressing her lips in a thin line and nodding.

“What?”

“I suggest we do something more exciting,” she teased, her voice swinging low and sweet. She bent at the waist, grabbing your hands and looking up at you through long eyelashes. You stammered some sort of sound, feeling overwhelmed with a thick air of deja vu. You knew a sound came out of you, but you weren’t sure if you actually said anything.

“C’mon then,” she laughed, keeping hold of your right hand and running down the streets. You dragged behind her, anxious and mildly terrified of this woman.

She ran you into downtown, and your eyes flitted over to each shop, and with great relief finding them all closed. The street lamps were lit dimly, but with warm light. Now you could clearly see the snow falling, and felt a shiver run through your body. Her hand still firmly clamped around yours she continued to drag you down streets, till lights shone down a way.

“Movie theaters’ open,” she commented, though you knew she must’ve known beforehand.

“Seems so.”

“ _Runaway_  and _His Death_. Any of those interest you?”

“Don’t have any money,” you apologized. Why were you apologizing?

“I’ll pay silly,” she giggled, sticking her tongue out at you.

“Oh,” was the involuntary sound your throat made, coming from deep within you and not fully escaping.

“So do you have a preference?”

You thought for a moment. You hadn’t actually heard about either of those movies.

“None at all. I don’t know anything about those movies.”

“I don’t know much about either. Let’s go with the top one then? _Runaway_ ,” she smiled at you cheerily, turning with cold, red cheeks to purchase tickets. Slowly you stepped to her side, watching the transaction over her shoulder.

“Thank you,” you murmured, taking the ticket she handed to you.

“No problem. You housed me for two days, remember?”

“That was nothing.”

“Oh, shut up,” she groaned, rolling her eyes. “Let’s go?” She suddenly changed to happy and expectant, smiling as you led the way to the snack line.

“No one’s here,” you said after a bit of waiting. Liz took out a two pound note, setting it on the counter. She then proceeded to grab the snacks from behind the counter, and the two of you went off, with you protesting to the theft.

“It’s not _stealing_ … not really,” she contemplated, still leading you into the theater.

Unsurprisingly, it was empty save a single person sitting way in the front. The movie was already rolling, though you weren’t surprised at that. You hadn’t checked the time.

Once you sat down, Liz handed you a packet of candies, and proceeded to take off her coat. Noticing it was a little warm, you did as well, and you finally settled down to watch a movie.

For some reason.

It struck you in the middle of the film that it was odd. This, in general. A girl you met about three months ago happens to save your life multiple times, proceeds to make you her best friend and her yours, and then completely abstains from normal behavior, followed by sneaking out of your house and watching movies in a movie theater at midnight.

The thought left you a few minutes later. The film happened to be mildly engrossing. It had been about two brothers and, predictably, one of them ran away. However it was rather confusing.

You stepped out with Liz, disposing of a water bottle and two now empty packets of candy. She sighed, seemingly refreshed. The other person walked out as well, but you didn’t see their face.

“That was interesting,” she said with a smile, wrapping her coat around her again. Lucky for you, you’d thought of it earlier, and had put it on in the movie theater.

“I feel like it would’ve done better as a book, or something. It was confusing as a movie,” she said, starting down the street again. You followed, keeping your hands tight in your pockets and your scarf wrapped safely around your neck and face.

“It’s based off a book. Said so in the end credits,” you informed her.

“Well they should’ve let it stay a book, then,” she laughed, and you joined her.

“Where are we going now?” You asked, watching the street lamp above you flicker. You’d been stopped under that lamp for a few minutes now, and Liz seemed to be perfectly happy staying silently where you were.

“There’s a fast food place open around here somewhere. Maybe a cafe, a diner,” she suggested, shuffling her pockets around until she found a cigarette and a lighter.

“I don’t want you to spend that much money,” you stammered, knowing how awful you felt after people spent excessive amounts of money on you.

“It’s no problem, Molly,” she said, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and letting a puff of smoke out. Though, you doubted it would take you ever a cigarette to puff out a cloud of ‘smoke’ in this weather.

“I really, uh,” you started, realizing you didn’t know what to say. You were pretty hungry, unfortunately. Movie theater snacks aren’t filling.

“Let me put it this way, are you hungry?”

Slowly and hesitantly, you nodded, and she smiled, seemingly satisfied. Then, with her arm still wrapped around your shoulders, the two of you headed down the street, where you both knew more restaurants were. She finished her cigarette during the walk.

Eventually you did end up at the fast food place. The only reason being it was the only one open and unlocked. The diner had in fact been open, the sign said open and the lights were on, but the doors were locked.

You and Liz both got a sandwich and a drink, and sat down in the warmer environment to enjoy it.

“Is this going to be a regular thing? You come and get me at midnight, take me out to dinner and a movie?”

“Molly, I am _shocked_  that you think I would consider such a lowly event as this to be a _date_ ,” she said, tutting at you disappointedly and shaking her head. The facade broke two seconds alter.

“Why do you wanna know?” She asked with a smirk, taking a bite of her sandwich.

“If it is, I’ll have to adjust my sleep schedule so I don’t fall behind on classes,” you said, pointing at her face so she’d understand you’d do it, but you wouldn’t be happy about it. Not at all. You’d hate every minute of it, spending all that special time together out in the snow.

“… you’re just crazy enough, and logical enough to actually do it, so no, it’s not a regular thing,” Liz laughed, leaning back in her chair as the two of you finished your meals. You nodded, copying her lax body position.

“Where to now?” You asked. After all, whether or not this was a date, it was her adventure.

“Come to my house?”

You looked around for a clock, finding one on the wall of the restaurant. The hands showed 1:59.

“Sure, but only for an hour or so,” you said, getting up out of your seat. She followed you out the door, eventually leading the way down neighborhood streets. When you arrived at her house, the lights were on, and there was a soft buzz of noise coming from it. She led you up the steps, twisting the handle and letting you in.

The atmosphere was warm. A bit like your house, but more tightly knit. It wasn’t family, and it wasn’t friends, but you knew at that point they probably knew everything about each other. The stairs were to the left of the front door, as well as a couch, and the kitchen across the living room. Liz took your jacket, hanging it on the nearby coat racket.

“(Y/N)! How are you?” Melina asked, splayed across the couch in a luxurious red bathrobe. Sewn in cursive was her name on the chest.

“I’m alright,” you shrugged, laughing sheepishly as you thought over the evening. Liz smiled brightly at Melina, leading you up the stairs by your shoulders.

“Make as much noise as you want, but use protection!” Melina called as you disappeared, making you groan with embarrassment. You rolled your eyes, turning back to Liz, who was now shoving you into a room you assumed was hers.

It was small, and warm, slightly pink light emanated from the bedside lamp. Her bed was pressed in the corner, sheets plain white, and the frame of the bed gold. All very fitting. She had pink curtains around the single, circular window, and a whole load of bookcases. Her room was virtually stuffed with bookcases, filled with books, cassette tapes, vinyls, music books, VHS tapes even.

“You have a large collection,” was all you could say, looking at the tower of boxes, all filled with vinyl records and touching the low ceiling.

“Everyone keeps their collection in here. I just keep track of them,” she said, watching as you weaved through the stacks of books and music to get to her desk. She stepped forward, pulling you towards the bed and sitting you down next to her. She hesitated to let go of you, but she did, moving to clenching the sheet.

_She needs to tell me something._

“Feeling good?” She asked, raising her eyebrows.

“Uh, yeah. You’ve got a nice room. I love the feel of it,” you looked around, smiling, letting out a little sigh of comfort as you looked at her once more. She unclenched her fist, smiling back at you dreamily.

“Thanks. It’s hard to sneak out of, but it’s hardly like I’m not allowed to just leave,” she laughed, leaning on the wall beside her bed.

“I, um -“

“I’m interested in your turtles now,” she said, gesturing her head at you.

“My - what?”

“Earlier, I asked what you were thinking about, you said turtles and something about dinosaurs, and I said no, and we went to the theater.”

“Oh, yeah that. There’s a species of turtle called the leatherback turtle, and they’re so genetically perfect that they just haven’t needed to evolve for the millions of years between now and the dinosaurs.” You started moving your hands wildly with speech, getting lost in the text you had read about the species a while ago in Biology. “Also, because they’re so perfect, they can dive deeper than many animals in the ocean, besides whales n stuff, which is _amazing_  for something so small! Even though they’re small, leatherbacks are actually the largest species of turtle -“

Liz grabbed your chin, moving you to look directly at her as she immediately pressed her lips against your cheek.

You blacked out, the air knocked entirely out of your lungs. She didn’t move against you but it burned as though she did, the most electrifying thing in your blood strengthening tenfold as anxiety increased.

She pulled away what was either one or five seconds later.

You didn’t move. You stayed halted in your position, partially leaning forward, your hand in the air with awkward confusion.

“(Y/N)?”

“Hhhhaaa,” you whimpered, finally blinking. Your eyes moved, darting down to her as your hands went to your lap. She grinned at you, patting your shoulder, obviously thinking all was well.

All was _not_ , in fact, well, and anyone with the emotional range greater than a misidentified chimpanzee could’ve seen that. Liz, while she did have this emotional range, was very oblivious, which did not help her situation.

“Why’d you do that?” You breathed weakly, looking straight ahead instead of at her.

“Eh, I wanted to. I’ll probably do it again, so tell me now if you don’t like it,” she raised her hands defensively, acting as though this was the most normal thing in the world.

That was your first kiss.

“That was my -“

“First kiss? Thought so,” Liz said with a smile. It fell when she noticed you were still panicking, though you could talk. “Maybe I should’ve warned you beforehand,” she muttered to herself, grabbing your hand.

“I… feel like something should’ve happened,” you said, wanting to get it out. She knew more about this stuff than you did, so perhaps she’d be of some comfort to you.

“What do you mean?”

“Like, I thought I was supposed to feel different than before.”

“Telling me I’m not a good kisser?” She cocked a single eyebrow.

“No! It’s just like -“

“A birthday? Seems to be meaningful but you just feel nothing inside?”

You nodded. That was essentially it. You felt electrified, excited, but nothing changed drastically. You weren’t able to suddenly see new colours, and you weren’t _horny_  or anything.

“I - I should go,” the words fumbled out of your mouth as you blindly stood, patting the bed as you came to your feet. Liz grabbed your wrist, holding you in place as she too stood.

“Wait, please don’t,” she begged, looking at you unblinking.

“I can’t sleep here, my mother will wonder where I’m at in the morning,” you said quietly.

“Just - stay, help me with this song I’m writing, then you can go,” she asked of you. It was such a small request, and very little could go wrong as long as your anxiety didn’t spike. You agreed, sitting back on the bed. She pulled out a ukulele from underneath the bed, and a small book.

“I’m good with the melody,” she explained, playing the chords and humming along to it. “But I can’t figure out the lyrics.”

“I’m alright at lyrics. What’s the song supposed to be about?”

“Anything you want,” she said with a smile. She handed you the book, and then a pencil. Upon opening it you came to a flurry of words, all written down messily. Lyrics were in-between different lyrics, tangled up in a mess of ideas, chords, and the alphabet at the top of the page.

“The alphabet?” You asked, pointing to it.

“Helps me with rhyming.”

You nodded, and decided quickly that a love song was a good, safe place to go. Love songs were common, after all.

_Start the song with a question, answer it with skepticism. Go from there._

You wrote down lyrics that came to mind. A few times you paused, tapping the end of the pencil on your chin, but you resumed. Liz stared over your shoulder the whole time, enraptured on your writing on the fresh page.

“Gonna sing it for me?” She asked brightly once you were done. You shook your head with a giggle.

“I’m not a singer.”

She looked at you skeptically, but ‘agreed’ with you anyway. She settled the instrument in her arms, playing the first few chords. Your job was to make sure she could see the lyrics, so you held the book up to her.

“Do you love me to, I’m not sure that you do,” she sang. Your face felt hot. Sharing songs and lyrics wasn’t a thing you did, so the fear of judgement was rank in your mind.

“I can’t say what I feel, for my breath away you steal,” she continued, laughing at the end. She didn’t mean any harm from it you knew, but you wondered why she laughed. Maybe it wasn’t good.

“Could you ever see yourself, holding on to me? Being loved and in your care, it’s all my dreams can see,” she smiled as she sang, making your throat wind up tight.

You spoke the words in your mind as she sang them. They weren’t anything special, the lyrics, you didn’t spend forever on them. However they were about her, and you hoped she wouldn’t find that out. There was a section of the song that said, ‘please hold me close, don’t let me fall off the ledge,’ which you thought might be a dead giveaway, but you had your hopes.

She finished the rest of the lyrics with a smile.

“You’re better than you give yourself credit for,” she said, setting both the book and instrument on the floor.

“I wouldn’t say that,” you mumbled, wrapping your arms around yourself protectively. It wasn’t exactly warm in her room, and you’d gone through a stressful situation, so it seemed like the right thing to do.

“Cold?” She asked, shifting slightly closer to you.

“I’m fine,” you said, your eyes shifting to the ground quickly.

“Something wrong?” Her head tilted to the side.

“You’re confusing me,” you finally spit out, the general events of the last few days squirming around your mind.

“What?”

“You’re - you slept on the couch when you usually just sleep in my bed, and I don’t know why that bothered me, and then you kissed me? And that’s not normal either, but in general you’re acting weird and I’m _not_  the only person who’s been thinking that because as I told you Belicia approached me but you’re acting weird in different ways, and it’s just confusing, and if I’m being honest pretty worrisome.”

“I… can’t say anything,” she said quietly, her voice even but sad. Despite this evident sadness, she seemed to be completely resigned to the reality of it, which was unlike her.

“ _Yes_  you can, is it your parents? Your friends? Is it me?” You grabbed her hands, squeezing them as you leaned in, brows furrowed in a perfect image of crestfallen desperation.

“… I’ll tell you if you stay the night,” she posed her challenge, lifting her head and looking down at you, giving you a wonderful view of her jawline and neck.

“You know I can’t do that, my mother will kill me,” you insisted nervously. You wanted to get to the bottom of this. Her overall behavior was seriously worrying you and you were mostly scared that she didn’t like you anymore, or maybe something was going on with her parents.

“Then I can’t tell you. Maybe another time, Molly,” she said in a sweet, quiet voice, kissing you on the temple. You couldn’t feel your extremities for a moment before she leaned away, and you blinked back to reality.

“Good night, Liz,” you mumbled, standing up.

“Good night.”

You walked home, alone, crawling back into bed fully dressed and more confused than you had been before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you enjoyed the kiss(es)!


	12. Celebrate Our Lives

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Holidays are better with friends and loved ones. And distant family relatives. And four girls. And a specific blonde who can't seem to get enough of you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sort of a filler, still important, very fun to write! Hope you enjoy!

It was officially Christmas break. As tradition had it, Jim and his family would come to your house to celebrate. His family, while stiff, was enjoyable around the holidays, and they knew that usually it was just you and your mother, unless Christmas fell on a Saturday or Sunday. This year, it fell on a Friday, so your father would be home on exactly Christmas evening. The Monday after your further confusing outing with Liz, Jim and his family moved into your home for the week.

“What do the girls do for Christmas?” You asked Jim, who was sitting on the floor attempting to play your bass.

“Y’mean Liz and Melina n' such?” He looked up at you. “No idea. They don’t have that much money, just enough for food, clothes, and the house of course. They probably don’t celebrate it now that I think of it.”

“That’s sad,” you said, your empathy getting the best of you. None of your family were highly religious, and it could’ve easily been Hanukkah you celebrated, or Kwanzaa. But the town was decorated for Christmas, and it was the most widely known and one of the easier to celebrate, so it was the one your parents chose. You couldn’t imagine winter without _some_  sort of holiday or celebration.

“You could invite them over,” Jim said offhandedly, still picking away at the strings of your bass.

“I don’t think four more people would fit,” you said.

“You’ve got a basement and two mattresses in your room, and your mother is delighted when you have more friends and always makes far too much food with my mum. I think we’ll be fine,” he mumbled through gritted teeth as he struck a wrong note.

“What are you even trying to play?” You asked, lying on the bed with your back and letting your head fall off the end of it. From upside down, he looked less angry.

“Just a tune in my head,” he grumbled.

“I think that’s actually _Care of Cell 44_ ,” you snickered.

“FUCK,” he yelled, earning him a loud and angry shout from downstairs. He sighed helplessly, his head dropping down to rest on the thin edge of the bass.

“This is all your fault,” he said, pointing at you accusingly as he stood, setting the bass by the door as he left. You laughed, enjoying the entertainment.

In the silence given to you by Jim’s mother yelling, you contemplated the girls’ situation. Not having a celebration sounded not very fun honestly, and they might enjoy having Christmas. Then again, that would mean that everyone would feel the compulsory need to get four more people Christmas presents (you’d already gotten them gifts), and your mother might not like that. The only way to know for sure was to ask, and if she said no, no harm done to you.

There was a loud bang downstairs, followed by more intense screaming.

You decided maybe you should ask after Jim was finished being yelled at.

 

.

 

A good while later you were called down by your mother. Jim was sitting on the couch pouting, while his mother and father were discussing something quietly in the corner. Your mother was mixing something in a large, plastic orange bowl.

“Could you get Jim out of here? I think he needs some exercise,” your mother said, not looking up from her concoction.

"Mum he’s not a dog,” you frowned, leaning against a nearby wall with your arms crossed.

“Yes well, he needs exercise anyways. So do you.”

“I uh - actually have a question to ask?” You started hesitantly, thinking this was the perfect moment. She wanted you out of the house, and it would be a perfect time to walk over to the girls’ house and invite them over for Christmas. Your mother didn’t react, but you continued anyways.

“I was wondering if we could invite Liz and her friends over for the week. They don’t celebrate the holidays because they don’t really, uh, have enough money. It’s fine if we can’t, I just thought it’d be nice to give them a family home.”

She finally stopped mixing her bowl, looking up and sighing.

“Four of them, right?” She clarified. You nodded, a small and quick motion. She thought it over, looking at the ground for a few moments before returning her attention to you.

“Alright. I make too much food anyway. But you’ll have to get them presents from the both of us, I don’t have the time. You can take some of my money though. Take Jim to get them presents from his family as well.”

You smiled brightly, bouncing on your toes.

“Thanks so much,” you said, curling your hands together excitedly. You motioned to Jim to follow you out the door, which he did, after he grabbed both yours and his jackets.

“Thanks,” you mumbled to him as you slid on the winter coat, forgetting that it was cold outside.

“It’s what I’m here for,” he said simply, walking down the street with a pep in his step. “I assume she said yes?”

“Yessir! So that’s where we’re going today, and tomorrow we should go out and get them presents from our family. It’s what mum said to do anyways.”

“Maybe you need to get them presents, I already gave them theirs,” he said, his voice low as he looked around the street.

“What did you get them?” You asked.

“Beatles music,” he said with a shrug. You nodded - it seemed appropriate.

“I got them some baked goods and scarves. I’ll give it to them on Christmas morning.”

“That’s very much like you,” he said with an impressed nod. You laughed, agreeing quickly. The two of you discussed presents (though you strayed from talking about what you got each other) for most of the rest of the way. You’d actually gotten him a leather satchel, something he’d been wanting for a while to replace his old backpack. His mother didn’t want him to get one, but that was mostly because they could be expensive.

There was a silence that spanned two minutes. You wracked your brain for something to say, before the most obvious topic came up. With a shy, and quiet voice, you announced it.

“Liz kissed me on the cheek, a few nights back.”

“She WHAT?! And you didn’t tell me?! (Y/N) I need to _know_  these things, oh my God,” Jim yelled, attracting what you assumed was the attention of the entire street.

“Jim, lower your voice?” You asked hurriedly, your voice hushed. He crinkled his nose up as though he smelled something disgusting, but he obeyed.

“How? What happened?”

“She snuck into my room the night that I told you that she wasn’t interested in me? We were in a phone call,” you said, trying to jog his memory. He nodded, so you continued. “She took me to see the movies and payed for everything.”

“What a sweetheart.”

“I know, right? So she then took me back to her place and showed me her rather impressive collection of -“

“Pornography?”

“No! Music. Her collection of music. Then she told me she wanted me to continue our conversation earlier where I was talking about turtles, and then she interrupted me with the freakin’ kiss, so I tried to leave for obvious reasons -“

“Anxiety,” he said.

“Yes, don’t interrupt me. But she asked me to stay a little longer and help her write a song, so I did.”

“… that it then?” He asked. You nodded, your eyes fixated on the ground.

“I couldn’t feel my legs for a full day after that.”

“I can imagine. Well at least now you know she really likes you.”

“Ohohoh no I don’t! You underestimate me, Jim Beach. My self doubt and hatred have reaches further than you could ever imagine. I bet she does it to a lot of people. She seems like the type to openly throw around affection.”

“Jesus Christ,” he mumbled, face palming himself. You laughed, practically skipping along the pavement before reaching their house.

You knocked twice on the white door, returning your arms back to their folded position in a weak attempt to keep out the cold. There were voices behind the door. You and Jim stared at each other as the voices continued, getting louder, and being accompanied by footsteps. At long last the door was opened by an annoyed looking Melina, whose hair was sticking in every direction and clothes completely misshapen.

“Oh! Miami, (Y/N)! Come in,” she said, opening the door wide to let you in. Jim stepped in, followed by you. The warmth of the house was quite welcome. Liz was nowhere in sight, but Belicia was sitting in her underwear at the dining table. You averted your eyes quickly.

“Melina and company, we’re officially inviting you to spend this week at our house,” Jim announced loudly, in hopes that the whole house could hear it.

“ _My_  house. You don’t pay the rent,” you reminded him.

“Yeah? Well neither do you,” he stuck his tongue out at you. You returned the favour with a sneer.

“I… really?” Melina asked quietly, dumbfounded by the invitation. “I don’t think we have enough money to get you all presents though. I wouldn’t want to intrude, and I know none of the others would.”

“That’s not a problem, you don’t have to get anyone presents. We got you enough to fill the time,” you said with an overly confident wink. Jim patted your shoulder, a small and silent sign that he was proud of you.

“It’s quite the invitation, are both parents okay with it?” Belicia asked from the dining table, reading a newspaper and not looking at any of you.

“Yes! Luckily. (Y/N)’s mum makes too much food and my family’s rich, so, don’t have to worry about the financial part. Also there’s two beds in (Y/N)’s room, as well as one in the basement, so there’s also room for all four of you to stay.”

He was succinct in such a way that Melina could find no way to refuse. She blinked rapidly, her mouth opening slightly before nodding.

“I suppose it couldn’t hurt if it’s no trouble,” she said slowly, twiddling her fingers.

“None at all,” you said. “Jus’ that one of you poor souls has to share a bed with Jim, and the other has to share one with me.”

Melina laughed, nodding with more confidence. She excused herself to break the news to Maggie and Liz, who were upstairs, leaving you alone with Jim and Belicia, who had still not magically transformed into a fully clothed person.

“Belicia, how’ve you been? Good break so far?” Jim asked, sitting down across from her. How he was so nonchalant in front of these women you’d never know. Though, you could probably attribute it to the fact that he’s known them a while, and you’ve only known all of them for about two or three months. Their brash and open lifestyle, the way they spoke at ease of their sexuality and other things you wouldn’t even dare to insinuate about in front of your mother, was something currently very foreign to you

“Yeah, been getting a lot of writing done. Lots of studying too,” she said, still not looking up from her newspaper. You tried not to look below her neck, but it was hard. She was rather beautiful.

“There is such thing as relaxing and not studying, y’know,” Jim said, leaning his arms on the table.

“Studying is relaxing,” she replied cooly.

“Let’s stop playing, eh? We both know you’re not studying,” Jim said. Belicia laughed, nodding.

“You’re right.”

“So what’ve you been doing?”

She paused, finally raising her eyes to look at him from across the line of the newspaper.

“Screwing girls.”

You stiffened. As you thought before, their open sexuality was not something you were used to.

“Jesus, at this rate you’ll turn the whole town! Leave some for me, will ya?”

Jim obviously was accustomed to it.

“… No.”

They both laughed, and you stayed in the corner watching awkwardly from afar.

“(Y/N), I heard you and Liz finally made out,” Belicia said, her body turning to you but her eyes still transfixed on the paper.

“Yes we made up, but not out.”

“Across the nose, not up it,” Jim added, an obscure reference to something you probably knew but didn’t care to remember.

“Whatever you say, Molly.”

“Don’t call (Y/N) that!” Footsteps came thumping down the stairs as Liz, Maggie, and Melina, all dressed to the nines and fully packed came thundering down the steps. The wood creaked under the weight of a weeks worth of clothes and the three girls.

“Hi, (Y/N)!” Liz said excitedly, half hugging you and planting another kiss to your temple.

Your brain short circuited. She _had_  said that she would probably do it again.

“Possessive, are we? Hope (Y/N)’s into that,” Belicia said, taking a tiny sip of her tea.

There was silence, and you realized very quickly that everyone was staring at you. Waiting for you to reply, to confirm or deny the accusations.

“I wouldn’t know!” You settled on awkwardly, giving a huge shrug with your hands in the air.

“You’re hilarious. Ready to go everyone?” Jim asked, standing up.

“Yes,” Belicia said along with the rest, despite the fact that she hadn’t moved an inch.

“Fucking hell, go get dressed,” Maggie said, motioning towards her bedroom.

“Only if you help me,” Belicia begged with doe eyes, walking backwards up the stairs to maintain eye contact with Maggie. Reaching the top of the steps she smirked, turning fully around and heading towards her room. Your mouth was open, though you didn’t notice it till Jim closed it for you. You cleared your throat, thanking him under your breath.

“(Y/N)! Wonderful to see you again,” Liz exclaimed, pulling you into a tight hug. You didn’t hug back, but only because she had you in such a tight hold you couldn’t move.

“It’s been like two days,” you grunted as she finally released you, allowing you to breath again.

“Too long, darling.”

“ _Please_  stop flirting in front of us, it’s hurting my eyes and my ears. You’re going to make me a deaf and blind man. You’re killing your father,” Jim moaned, rubbing his eyes in faux tiredness.

“Your mother too. Be mindful of your actions,” Maggie said with a sniff.

“You’re not my mother, Belicia is,” Liz said, scrunching her nose up.

Maggie sat on the first step of the stairs, her face falling into her hands as she made some sort of choking sob noise, followed by a deep sigh.

“This is what happens when you send me away too long,” Belicia said, coming out dressed in her black, shrouding grandmother clothes.

“What, Liz bullies me?” Maggie asked with a weak grumble, standing and fluffing out her blouse.

“Exactly,” Belicia said, leading the six of you out the door.

“There’s no, uh, car,” Jim said, and as if they were telepathically connected, they handed one out of two of their bags to him. He stumbled under the weight of them, handing two to you to carry the rest of the way home. You took them without question, following the girls down the sidewalk.

“You know the way?” You asked with a pant, jogging a bit to keep up with their long legs.

“Liz does, at least I assume she does. She’s snuck out enough to see you,” Melina said, flipping her hair out of her face without the use of her hands.

“It’s only been like twice,” Liz mumbled, picking up her pace. Twice was definitely enough to know the way, though.

“So your family, and Jim’s family, they all gather into one of your houses and you celebrate Christmas together?” Maggie asked, a smooth attempt to change the subject.

“Yeah, usually it’s just me n’ my mum. Dad’s usually away and I don’t have any brothers or sisters. But Jim’s family definitely fills the house up,” you said with a laugh, remembering how crowded it could get. Your house wasn’t especially large. You glanced back to Jim, who was struggling to keep up.

“Liz? Could we slow down?” Maggie called after realizing Jim was lagging, along with the rest of you with her quick pace. She didn’t listen, instead continuing to walk much faster than the rest of you.

“Liz?” You asked, trying to catch up with her.

“Yes?” She turned around immediately, slowing to your pace.

“Jim’s slow,” you said with a few pants, rolling your shoulders back to avoid a cramp from the bags.

“I’m aware of that,” she giggled, doing nothing as the rest of the girls and eventually Jim caught up. For the remainder of the walk, whether it was your intention or not, you didn’t talk to her. Or anyone, for that matter, instead staying on the edge of the group, watching conversation flow easily. It would only be broken by your words. At last you arrived home, setting the bags down on the floor to let your arms rest.

“You have a wonderful tree,” Melina commented as she entered, immediately shedding her coat in the warmer temperature. You laughed, thanking her as you took her fur coat.

“Let’s get you ladies settled,” Jim huffed, now carrying five bags in two hands and around his neck and shoulders. Noticing, you quickly took two from him, adding to your pile. With your slow and shaky steps, you lead the girls down into the basement where two of them could sleep. The bed was already made in white sheets, courtesy of your mother. You made a mental note to thank her later. The basement was a little colder than the rest of the house, with windows next to the ceiling, and a fireplace within a cubby hole which also held a couch and a small bookshelf.

“Two of you can stay down here,” you said, setting the bags down without thought of whose was whose.

“Melina and I can stay down here,” Belicia said, grabbing her bags from the floor and setting them on the right side of the bed. Melina followed, setting her bags on the other side while glaring playfully at Belicia.

“Sounds fair. That puts you and Liz up with me and (Y/N),” Jim said, heaving the rest of the bags off the floor. As the rest of you walked up the basement stairs and the next flight, you tried to grab two of the bags from him, but he wouldn’t let you. By the time you reached the first floor you’d given up. He led you into your now shared room, the bags thunking on the floor as they dropped from his hands.

“My bed’s on the floor, and (Y/N)’s is the one with an actual frame,” Jim said, pointing to each bed respectively.

“No need to be sour about my bed frame. If it really irks you that much, we can stay at your house next year, and all six of us can share your bed,” you said with a cold smile. You reached your hands towards the sky in a long stretch.

“Well I think this sleeping setup is obvious. You and J -“

Maggie was cut off as Jim took her out of the room, said something very hush-hush that neither you or Liz heard, before returning five seconds later.She, despite being temporarily kidnapped, seemed very calm.

“You and Liz can share that bed, I’ll handle Jim,” she said, addressing you singularly. You nodded curtly, thinking that was going to happen anyway whether you liked it or not.

“I’ll - I’ll let you get settled,” you said, dismissing yourself quickly to return to the kitchen. When you entered the threshold, it smelled of several different pies baking.

“Girls are here,” you informed her.

“I assumed so,” she joked.

You stood in the doorway, watching Jim’s parents talk quietly as your mother baked. Jim’s mother wore a plain white apron, while your mother sat at the dining table with a book in hand. She sported a floral apron, and a pair of mittens lay next to her.

A kiss landed on your temple suddenly, a hand touching on your left shoulder and teasingly tracing a line towards your right before settling on your other shoulder.

“‘Ello, Molly,” Liz said with a cocky smile, raising her chin. You giggled awkwardly in response, your whole face flushing red hot. You couldn’t meet her eyes, but you could feel hers on you.

“Gonna rehearse my ‘hows your mother’,” Liz joked with an evil smirk, heading over to where your mother was sitting and setting herself down next to her. She then proceeded to engage your mother in a pleasant conversation about education and baking recipes.

“She’s good at playing perfect girl,” Jim said, appearing beside you. You jumped as his voice hit your eyes, turning to face him with shock and confusion.

“She kissed me again,” you told him out of nowhere, needing to get the emotion out of your lungs before you couldn’t breathe.

“Again? Wow, when’s the marriage?”

“Would you shut it for once?”

“Hey, this is _your_  dream life. You’re getting the perfect girl. At least for you. Bitchy and hot. Perfect, right?” He sauntered away, picking up a cookie from an open box on the counter.

“You’re a rude and vulgar man, Jim,” you said to him when he turned to your side.

“And you’re a besotted fool,” he replied in an overly posh accent. You turned your attention to Liz, how she animatedly talked about whatever it was they were now discussing. She smiled bright, catching your eye for a second before returning to your mother once more.

“You’re right,” you sighed quietly, tucking your hands into your uncomfortably small pockets. High waisted jeans never had big pockets.

“Can’t you just tell her? She obviously likes you,” he said, his tone turning serious as he crossed his arms.

“I should, I don’t know why I can’t.”

“It’s because you’re a coward. You can’t be a coward to succeed in love.”

“Then let it be that I fail,” you said, quiet and curt, turning your back with a whip to head back to your own room. Jim did not follow you, and you knew Liz didn’t notice. When you opened your door, Maggie was still inside, rummaging through her clothes looking for something.

“Maggie?” You asked quietly, shutting the door slowly behind you. She groaned, stretching her back and turning around to face you.

“Hey love,” she said, standing up and brushing off her trousers and shirt.

“Looking for something?” You asked, eyes flitting down to her small suitcase.

“Yeah, actually. Just a journal. Not important, do you need anything?”

“No, Jim’s just trying to get me to… uh…”

“Tell Liz you love her?”

You rolled your eyes, but nodded slowly. You told her what had happened, a quick rundown version of it, including the kiss. Her eyes widened when you mentioned it, but she stayed silent, ever a good listener. You reminded yourself to thank her for this later, with a dinner or a small gift.

“And he said I needed to have courage, and essentially what I said was ‘I can’t, I’d rather never be with her than attempt to initiate it.’”

“Not to be a damper, but I think Liz is waiting for your move,” Maggie said slowly, testing the waters of the advice she gave you. You took a deep breath, rolling your shoulders back.

“I don’t want to play this like it’s a game, and I feel like that’s how Liz sees it? Am I wrong? I feel like she’s playing with my emotions like it’s… like it’s character development in a - a book.”

“Well… Liz is one for theatrics. But I don’t think she’s purposefully trying to play with your emotions. She’s very emotional, and she’s passionate, always wearing her heart on her sleeve.”

“More like as a crown,” you mumbled. Maggie laughed, quiet and sweet, paired with a happy nod.

“Yes. She’s passionate and emotional and all that, but that doesn’t mean she knows what to do with her emotions. Just as someone who’s closed off about their emotions, someone like… Melina, she knows what to do with her emotions. She doesn’t fly off the handle and she doesn’t break down because she knows how to work with herself, but she never really expresses it to other people. I think that if it weren’t for me literally living with her, I wouldn’t know any of this. But uh -,” Maggie stammered as she got back on track, “Liz is… Liz is emotional and has no idea what to do with her emotions.”

You blinked a few times, nodding in a half understanding.

“Do you think she really likes me then?” You asked in a near whisper, staring at your fingers twiddling with one another. You heard Maggie shift beside you, patting your knee in a comfort.

“Yes, I do. But take chances - as long as it doesn’t feel wrong. It’s okay to feel uncomfortable, or nervous, but not wrong.”

She was… good at talking, you thought.

“Thank you, Maggie,” you said quietly, still staring at your hands.

“Anytime.”

Thirty minutes later, as you had already ventured back into the now crowded kitchen, you were informed that you were going out for dinner to welcome the new guests. Your mother felt that more baking would break her, so she thought getting dinner at a restaurant would work better.

“Where are we going to go that’s not gonna cost over £50 for ten people?” You asked her.

“Don’t worry too much about it, just enjoy your friends,” she smiled sweet, pushing you into your group of friends. Melina was currently fondling your cat, holding Spot secure in her arms as she pet her. Spot looked quite content. Maggie and Liz were having a passionate argument about Renaissance painters as Jim tried to deescalate the situation before you all were kicked out. Belicia watched in amusement.

“Uh, girls? Guy? We need to get ready for dinner,” you said, trying to interrupt the voices growing louder. To your luck they listened, pausing their spiels to look at you. “We’re having dinner somewhere to feed everyone and uh, I think it’s nice? Mum, is it nice?” You turned around to her, hoping the girls wouldn’t start fighting again.

“Not really, but dress very warm,” she answered.

“So uh, yeah, dress warm, not nice. Uh… yeah,” you said, excusing yourself by pointing upstairs. You cursed under your breath at your awkwardness as you walked up the steps, heading into your room. For a bit you rifled through your closet, trying to find the warmest clothes you had. You had a trench coat that was fitted, and that paired with maybe a wool vest and button up might keep you warm. A few minutes later, after you had already dressed into a button up and your vest with warm pants, Liz, along with Jim and Maggie came into your room.

“Looking warm,” Jim commented, going through the clothes in his closet.

“Looking cold,” you said back at him. He gave you a questioning look, before pulling out his own long winter coat.

“Hot, actually.”

“Miami, there’s a lot of words I’d use to describe you, and hot is not one of them,” Maggie said absentmindedly as she once again set about ruffling through her suitcase. Liz on the other hand, took out a short, pink silk slip dress. With a giddy smile she took it to the bathroom.

“She doesn’t have hearing problems, right? I said warm clothing,” you said quickly, gawking in awe at Maggie.

“No, she’s just a whore.”

“Don’t be mean!” Jim said with a disapproving stare.

“I’m not wrong!”

“Shouldn’t say it, though.”

Maggie shrugged, setting back to going through her suitcase. Liz came back a few minutes later, wearing the slip that really did odd things to your heart. Like make it jump into your throat, and clog up all your breathing.

“I would borrow Melina’s coat but she needs that, so I’ll just use my jacket,” she said, going back to her bag.

“Liz that hardly counts as a winter jacket,” Maggie shut the top of her suitcase, a pile of clean clothes next to her on the floor. She fixed Liz with a serious look, her mouth slightly parted as she tried to convey legitimate worry.

“It’ll have to do,” Liz grunted as she shut her suitcase as well, a fur lined leather jacket in her hand. “I’ll wear those special tights you got for me. The warm ones?”

“Right,” Maggie sighed, taking her clothes into the bathroom. Liz just sat on the floor, slipping on the tights as Jim looked keenly away, finding his closet suddenly incredibly interesting. You stood still, too awkward to move and still caught up in the shock of seeing her in such a sheer dress. It was almost lingerie.

When Liz was finished she had on a pair of white pumps paired with black tights, and of course the pink dress. Her jacket was nice, though it didn’t look like enough. Jim was dressed in what was basically a full on suit with a long, black coat, and Maggie was dressed in a beret and a coat much like yours but much more fashionable. Next to the three of them you looked a little bedraggled.

“Alright then, we’re ready,” Jim announced with a clap of his hands, rubbing them together as he lead the four of you into the living room. Melina and Belicia were waiting there, both wearing large fur coats - black and white respectively. Melina’s legs were draped over Belicia’s lap, and they seemed to be enjoying themselves with the parents away in the kitchen.

“Mum? We’re ready,” you called into the kitchen, seeing the adults all fully dressed and talking. She smiled at you, prancing into the room with a large jacket and small shoes at the bottom of it.

“Let’s get a heading then! Three of you will ride with me, and two will ride with Mr. and Mrs. Beach. I’m assuming (Y/N) will come with me?” She said to nobody, opening the front door and ushering everyone through. The cold already felt bitter on your skin, gnawing it’s way through your layers of clothing. You wrapped your coat tight around yourself as you headed to your mums’ car. Jim got into his parent’s car, waving with a bright and cheesy smile at you from the passenger’s seat. You waved back with just as cheesy as a smile. In climbed your mother in the drivers seat across from you, then Liz and Maggie in the back. Of course.

“Hello,” you nodded at both of them.

“You’re dull,” Maggie blurted out, fussing over her jacket after she stumbled into the car.

“You’re right,” you said with an overly cheery voice, pointing at the ceiling as though you had a brilliant idea. Liz discreetly shoved Maggie, and you watched from the rear view mirror as they started a small, passive aggressive war on each other. Your mother didn’t notice though, following Jim’s car to wherever you were going.

“Where are we going, mum?” You asked, tearing your eyes away from the only entertainment you were going to get for a while.

“This small restaurant slash winter resort up in the forest. Margaret said it was a wonderful little place but… their tables are outside. She said it’s well worth it, especially at the price,” your mother said matter of factly, feeling especially cheery. You laughed a little, happy that she seemed so chipper.

“Sounds fantastic. You hear that back there?” You asked, turning around to face them. They were clunking their heads together and stifling their obvious laughter with their hands. It was a very odd way to find the love of your life and her rival/best friend, but you didn’t deny that most of your life had been odd.

“Going to a cabin in the woods!” Liz said in a horrible recitation of what you and your mother had discussed.

“That makes it sound awful. Terrible connotations. What about… cottage in the… forest,” Maggie suggested, leaning back and stroking her chin philosophically.

“We’re eating at a restaurant winter lodge,” you told them, realizing they hadn’t actually been listening.

“Sounds fun,” Maggie said, her hands now resting in her lap.

“We’ll be sitting outside.”

“Sounds miserable,” Liz said. You shrugged, half agreeing.

For the rest of the drive you kept the two girls busy so as to avoid them doing anything weird, or fighting. You mostly entertained them with stories, your mother adding on her own experiences every now and then. Sometimes, they’d open up a little and join in on the storytelling.

When you arrived, you parked next to Jim’s car, following the rest of the group into the small cabin. The counter was right next to the door on the left, a small waiting area with no tables across from the bar. The place was lit by candles and small lanterns, giving it an old and charming look. The larger door across the room lead to an outside seating area. Picnic tables covered by red and white umbrellas were nearly fully covered in snow - apparently the umbrellas weren't much help. Beside you, Melina pulled her coat tighter against herself instinctively.

“How charming,” your mother said with a satisfied sigh, walking up to the counter and looking at the menu. You followed, sitting on the bench with the rest of the group as they read over your shoulder.

“Not a large assortment, eh?” Jim noticed, narrowing his eyes as he read down the short list consisting of around five actual meal items. All the rest were beers and small appetizers, like chips and crisps.

“Oh well. Could always settle for fish and chips,” you said.

“Don’t be so British,” Jim said, slapping the menu out of your hands and grabbing it himself. “What about a pastie?”

“I don’t think they sell those,” Belicia said, trying to pry the menu out of Jim’s hands.

“There’s more menus up front,” you told them tiredly, leaning your chin on your palm. Maggie and Melina got up, but Jim and the rest stayed, intent to fight over this single menu. They returned each with a menu, sitting peacefully a few seats away from the rest of you.

“You decided what you want?” Your mother came up to you. You nodded, deciding fish and chips was probably your best bet. The rest of the menu didn’t look great. Beside you your friends agreed, though the orders were so numerous you didn’t remember who ordered who. As you sat down outside, you cursed yourself for not wearing anything with a hood, or at least putting on a hat. Your ears felt like they were about to fall off.

“Cold?” Liz asked as she scooted in next to you, followed by Melina. On the other side of the table sat Maggie, Belicia, and Jim, while the adults had decided to sit at a different table.

“That obvious?” You asked with a shaky laugh.

“Huddle with me. We’re both what, 33 degrees? Together that’s 66 degrees.”

“It doesn’t work like that,” you mumbled through gritted teeth. She still moved closer, her legs now touching yours.

“Aren’t you cold? You’re barely wearing anything,” you asked, seeing that her outfit had still not magically changed to something appropriate. She was still wearing socially acceptable lingerie.

“Liz runs hot on the inside,” Belicia said, looking perfectly warm in her overly large grandma coat.

“I run hot on the outside too,” Liz said with a wink, licking her lips in a sexually enticing way.

“Don’t I know it,” Belicia replied with a smirk. You took a deep breath, blowing your hair out of your eyes as you looked away.

“You’re gonna get frostbite,” you whispered to Liz, grabbing her arm and pulling her closer so she’d hear you.

“If I do you’ll just have to nurse me back to health,” she said with a playful smile, leaning in far too close to your face. You leaned backwards as she leaned forwards, her chasing the heat off your skin.

“No, the doctors will do that,” you informed her shakily, now at the very edge of the bench as she continued to get closer to you. Her hand landed on your thigh to balance herself and you felt your heart stop.

“I’d be happy to let you play doctor any day,” she whispered, her hot breath the only warmth in the snow. You couldn’t feel yourself breathe, your noses almost touching.

“I leave for a minute and you two are making out, I cannot believe this, just eat your fucking food,” Jim hissed, pulling Liz away from you as he set the platters in front of you.

“We weren’t doing anything, Liz was just teasing me!”

“Whatever it was, it was very fun to watch. I’m sad you missed it, Miami,” Melina said with an overreaction of a sad sigh.

“And watch it with the swearing! Mums right over there,” you said, pointing over at the only other occupied table. They didn’t seem to notice though, engrossed in their food and conversation.

“Ah, she’s fine. Eat. It’s good,” he said, taking a large bite of his sandwich. You watched in mild amusement as Jim took another bite while still having a too large bite in his mouth. It was almost spilling out of his lips, so at that point you looked away, picking up your fork and picking at your fish. For a few minutes it was oddly quiet as everyone ate. You had to admit it was rather good for such an obscure place.

“I can see why your mum likes this place,” Maggie said once she had eaten through half her meal.

“Yeah, it’s gotta be good food for her to eat in such _filth_ ,” Jim said, making his voice nasally and posh as he said filth.

“What do you think of it, Belicia?” Maggie asked, setting down her fork to look at the girl.

“Not as good as France.”

“Would you _shut up_  about France?” Liz asked with a loud groan, burying her face in her hands. By Belicia’s evil smile, you could tell that for some reason she loved to talk about France simply to annoy other people.

“God I thought you were done with it, you’ll never be done,” Melina wailed, her head falling onto the wooden table.

“What’s France?” You asked, before realizing two seconds later as everyone burst into laughter, how stupid you sounded. _What’s France, oh my God_ , you thought to yourself, wanting to immediately sink into the ground.

“S - somewhere between Germany and Spain,” Melina spluttered out between her laughter, nearly keening over and falling off the bench. This action only spurred on continued laughter, but lucky for Melina, she caught herself before she actually fell.

“I meant what happened in France,” you said quietly, mostly to yourself, in tired resignation.

“Belicia - Belicia went to France for a summer. Wouldn’t stop talking about it for the rest of the year she was back. She’s doing it just to annoy us I _know_  that and it’s working,” Liz pointed an accusatory finger at Belicia, who was now sitting smugly at the other end of the table, fully done with her food.

“Well I think that’s enough about France, I don’t want to hear the word again for the next twenty four hours, and if I do, I’ll murder the person who says it,” Maggie said, slapping her hands on the table with finality.

“France,” Jim said with a stupid smile, doing a ‘whats up’ motion with his head towards Maggie. She in turn did not say anything, instead launching herself across Belicia’s lap to grab Jim in a chokehold.

“I’m joking! I’m sorry! Maggie! _Maggie_!!“

She let go, though you noticed that she hadn’t ever really choked him. She’d only put her hands around his neck and shook him rather violently, which was terrifying in itself. As Maggie sat back in he seat, Belicia brushed herself off as though she’d been immensely offended.

Even with your laughter warming you up, the night was getting ever colder, so you huddled closer to the others in a desperate act of seeking warmth.

“Cold, Molly?” Liz asked, wrapping an arm around you.

“Shut up, I’m not hot blooded like you,” you mumbled through chattering teeth, but melting into her touch despite your words. You felt your thoughts beginning to get fuzzy, and soon you couldn’t feel much at all besides numbness in both body and mind.

“You’re freezing,” she noticed with a serious tone as she felt your skin.

“I don’t do well in the cold,” you said, closing your eyes and trying to mentally block out the cold.

“I can’t believe we’re related,” Jim scoffed, standing up and pulling you into a warm hug. You took a deep breath, trying to absorb as much warmth as you could from the now two people holding you.

“Distantly, Jim,” you murmured as you felt yourself slipping out of consciousness. Whether it was from the cold or the comforting warmth of friends/distant cousins/crushes was debatable, though your blacking out did seem to worry Maggie.

“Maybe we should take you home? You don’t look very good,” Maggie said as she stood, walking over to you as well, trying to get you to stand. You numbly followed her directions, taking you inside the building where it wasn’t much warmer but it was brighter. The rest of the group followed you in, and you assumed your mother must have noticed what was happening, as you were soon in the car, leaning on the window and trying not to fall asleep.

“You’ve never done well in the cold. And I’ve never known why. Let’s hope you don’t get sick, yeah?” Your mother said to you, leading you into the house.

When did you arrive at the house? The drive was supposed to be around thirty minutes.

“I think I need to sleep,” was what you wanted to say, but what you heard yourself saying was, “I think sleep.” Luckily your mother understood your near incomprehensible ramblings, putting you quickly to bed, allowing the rest of your friends staying in your room to get ready as well.

“Take care, good night, love you, sleep well,” your mother said your usual shared good byes at bedtime as she left your room. You fell promptly asleep, not noticing whether Liz slept with you, or if Jim got settled in with Maggie either. You dreamt of odd things that night. The most prominent one was your mother shooting you in the face to save your father, which you thought was a mostly sound decision. The other one had something to do with Liz and Jim, though when you awoke, you didn’t remember it.

Right as you fell asleep, you had one vivid dream that you suspected might’ve been real. It was such a simple and realistic dream that it very well could’ve been.

Liz had kissed your forehead, wishing you health and a good nights’ sleep. Even in your half conscious state, you wished you could’ve told her the same.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm jus churning these chapters out like a whole ass monster. stay tuned for more weird shit


	13. In Sickness and In Health

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sickness REALLY puts a damper on the holidays.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for a lot of vomiting and sickness. Like a lot - this situation legitimately happened to me during Thanksgiving. Not around friends thank goodness, but it definitely wasn't fun. And no, it's not exaggerated, it might actually be under-exaggerated. Turns out it was food poisoning and I was fine :)

You awoke the next morning in the afternoon. Your mother was at your side, with Liz and Jim looking over her shoulder, and Maggie seated at the end of the bed. Jim’s parents were talking quietly in the corner. Everything felt stuffy and dizzy - like there wasn’t anything different about anything, as if everything was just the same silent, soft and suffocating material.

“Oh, you’re awake,” your mother said, pulling her hand off your forehead. “We thought you might’ve just been tired but… you’re burning up.”

“No I’m not,” you said, your voice raspy and dry.

“… Yes, you are. Better stay in bed the rest of the day,” your mother advised you, standing up and walking towards the door. “And if I see you out of it, it’s trouble!”

“Damn it,” you mumbled once Jim’s parents had also left the room. Your hands clutched at the bedsheets, pulling them up to your nose.

“You’ll be fine, I’m sure,” Jim said, laying down sideways across the bed.

“I had so much stuff planned,” you whined, mentally dreading over the things you wouldn’t get to do anymore. Getting sick during holiday was not a favourable situation and it happened more often than you liked to admit.

“Like what?”

“Dancing and baking mostly,” you mumbled, glancing aside. “Listen, drug me to hell on pain medicine, I’ll be fine,” you said, grabbing Liz’s sleeve. She tugged herself away from you with a laugh, dismissing your wishes as the fever talking. If only you could tell her it _wasn’t_  in fact the fever, you just really needed to get a lot of medicine, and were not, in fact, going insane.

Melina and Belicia entered at that moment, talking quietly to each other. They approached Maggie, and engaged her in conversation you couldn’t hear.

“I can’t be in bed all day,” you moaned, your head landing back on your pillow with a soft thud.

“Got somewhere to go, have you?” Jim asked, looking at you disapprovingly.

“I’ve got dames to smooch,” you rasped, before falling asleep again, Liz’s laugh echoing into the dark of your subconscious.

You awoke two hours later, feeling incredibly dry. Everywhere - your skin felt ashy and as though it was peeling in the heat of your covers, your mouth immovable with its drought. Slowly you peeled your eyes open, seeing Melina above you, discussing something with someone on the other side of the bed. The voices of the two crawled their way into your ears, becoming clearer and clearer the more you awoke.

“Melina?” You asked, your voice surprising you with hoarseness and sheerly how quiet it was. She immediately noticed you, informing you that Liz and Jim went out to get groceries and were coming home soon, and that it was 16:00, and food was available. You shook your head quickly at that prospect. You were _thirsty_.

“Water, please?” You requested shakily, throat stabbing as though you were drinking sand every time you spoke. She obeyed quickly, handing you a glass that was already at your bedside. She sat you up as she saw you were having difficulties. Immediately after doing it, you felt the world go woozy, rocking slowly like a boat on calm oceans that echoed tsunamis.

“Hey, you okay?” Maggie leaned over from the other side of the bed, an immensely worried look on her face. You felt a pang of sickness in your stomach, building its’ way up to your esophagus. The bitter taste of bile and acid stewed in your mouth, and you dropped your cup, pushing Melina out of the way.

“I’m gonna be sick,” you half mumbled, before falling out of bed and vomiting on the floor.

Don’t move, don’t move, don’t move, the words repeated in your head over and over again, becoming a mantra that only made you sicker, steeping you deeper into the darkness enveloping your body. Voices rang all over your body, flickering candlelight being the only source of light behind your eyelids. Before you knew it you were back on the bed, continuously vomiting into a garbage can. Someone was holding your hair, and you heard the other one distantly run down the stairs.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you whispered, but even speaking made the world spin dizzily, making you hurl once more into the small garbage can.

“Hey, it’s fine, we’re just getting your mum. You’ll be fine,” you heard a voice you could no longer identify say, and the tug on your hair oddly comforted you as you hung half off the bed and half on it. You were at a terrible angle, the low swoop of your head in relation to your body making the blood rush to your head and make you sicker.

“Higher,” you breathed out, before vomiting again, drool half coming out of your mouth and while it also comforted you strangely, it was disgusting, and it was embarrassing. A few moments later, though time didn’t seem quite linear, your mother came in, taking your head from whoever was holding it before. She held you in her hands, letting you lean at the perfect angle to not make you sick.

“‘M sorry,” you whimpered, throwing up again.

“You keep saying that, it’s not your fault,” she cooed, stroking your hair. The repetitive motion of it made you sick, crawling deeper under your skin and irritating you down to your bones.

“Stop, please,” you half cried, apologizing quickly after. She assured you once again that it wasn’t an issue. Whenever you moved, it felt as though it took ages for your blood cells to catch up with the movement, making every move feel like you left your ghost behind.

Time passed before you knew it, having already thrown everything in your stomach up. You now dry heaved, shaking intensely, half hanging off the bed and half dead.

“(Y/N)?”

 _Ah, that’d be Liz,_ you thought to yourself. Your conscious thoughts were now intelligible, though there was a backdrop of whispering voices and repeated hymnals and songs that irritated you beyond belief, considering it was making you sick to your stomach and whirling you out of reality.

“You’re back. I don’t know what’s wrong,” your mother said. Her voice was thick with worry, a worry you practically never heard unless she was afraid someone was dying.

Were you dying?

You dry heaved again, your mouth choking on nothing but spit and your own throat. Your legs shook violently, spasming and kicking what was left of the sheets off of them.

“Hey Molly,” Liz murmured, stroking your cheek once before removing her hand. Thank God. She looked you up and down, a worried look obvious even in your state.

“How are you?”

“P-P-Peach- peachy,” you said, voice shaking along with your legs. She set a hand on them, getting them to finally still and stop spasming. You tried to convey your thanks, but you only threw up again. This time, pure stomach acid came out. Only a drop, but it burned the back of your throat like nothing before. You let out a small moan of pain as it came out.

After that, you couldn’t remember anything. You had blacked out, unaware of any and all of your surroundings. When you woke again, it was dark out. Liz was sitting in front of you in a chair, sleeping with a blanket covering her.

You didn’t feel sick anymore - not world spinning, dry heaving and shaking sick at least. You didn’t feel great though. There was the massive headache, then the throat that felt like it was bleeding, hot liquid and all.

“Liz?” You whispered hoarsely, not even attempting to sit up. The blanket was placed peacefully over you, and your head was propped on two thin pillows.

“(Y/N), you’re awake,” Liz stood immediately up, kneeling by your side.

“Why’d you stay,” you murmured, raising your hand weakly. Instead of pushing her hair out of her face, you mostly ended up gently smacking her, but you got the job done. Her hair was now out of her face.

“I was worried, we all were. Are,” she corrected herself. “We don’t know what’s wrong.”

“Either way I feel a little better. Gotta sleep now,” you hummed, eyes closing as you relaxed your neck to look back up at the ceiling.

“Are you going to be alright?”

“I’m cold,” you said, feeling freezing with the small blanket over you. You supposed there was only one because you kept throwing them off and you had stated that you were hot.

“I could get you more blankets?”

“No,” you mumbled, pulling the blanket up to invite her. There was no room where you’d opened up the blanket, so you motioned to the other side of you.

She paused, making a few noises as her mouth open and closed. She pursed her lips together, looking you over, before gingerly making her way to the other side, scooting in beside you. You couldn’t turn your body due to your sickness, and you couldn’t turn your head due to your tiredness, but you felt her beside you. Heat radiated off the blush of her skin, warming your cooler temperature. Her arms came carefully around you, and she raised your arm with the utmost delicacy, placing it over her shoulders. In a way she tucked herself into you.

“I was worried you were going to stop breathing,” she said, pressing herself tighter to your side.

“I thought I already did that around you,” was the first thing you thought, and it was the first and only thing you said. After that, even if you wanted to stay up and talk to her, assure her, you couldn’t. Your body begged for sleep and you succumbed.

You awoke in the morning feeling clearer. Still a little sick, but very clear in the head. It took you awhile to realize that you’d nearly completely skipped Tuesday through sleep and throwing up, and that it was now Wednesday. Liz was not by your side when you awoke, but soon after your mother and the rest of the group ended up in your room.

“I think you got food poisoning,” your mother said once she realized you were feeling better.

“Food poisoning sucks,” was all you replied. Everyone else seemed to agree.

“I’m gonna take a bath,” you said, heaving yourself off the bed. Your mother came over immediately, steadying you and trying to carry you.

“Maybe you should wait until you can stand?” Jim suggested, looking ready to carry you at any moment.

“I’m standing right now.”

“I’m carrying you,” your mother pointed out.

“I’m taking the bath,” you said with finality, pulling away from your mothers grip. You walked a few steps before stumbling, but you slowly made your way to the bathroom. Your mother sighed worriedly, turning to Jim, who shrugged. Neither of them could stop you.

“Maybe I should come with you?” Your mother suggested on the other side of the locked door. You let out an audible groan, turning on the bath water.

“Mum!” You said sternly, knocking the door once. She grumbled something you couldn’t hear before finally leaving.

“Maybe I should come with you?” Liz said through the door, mimicking your mother’s high voice with a terrible falsetto.

“ _Liz_ ,” you hissed, turning away from the door and undressing.

“At least unlock it in case something happens?” Maggie suggested, and after giving it a moments thought, it seemed like a good idea. You padded over to the door, letting the lock click open. As that happened, the knob turned and with a flash the door was open. Blonde hair flashed past your eyes and before you knew it, the door was closed again.

Liz marched past you, jiggling the doorknob while pointedly ignoring you. The shock of her being in the bathroom with you quickly passed, relief flooding over you as you realized you were still wearing your pants and undershirt.

Now, with Liz banging on the door to be let out as Maggie irrefutably said no, there were two ways you could take this. One, you continue to undress. This would require you being bold and flirtatious, and would lead to you taking an actual bath in front of Actual Liz. The second way this could go was you redressed and waited for Maggie to let Liz out.

You could easily label yourself a coward as you put your trousers back on, watching tiredly as Liz pounded on the door. Maggie was just as relentless as Liz, keeping the door firmly closed despite the lock being on the inside.

“Liz, calm down, she’s just playing a joke,” you rasped, turning off the water and sitting down on the cover of the toilet. She turned around to face you, and the silence was most welcome by your sensitive ears.

“Sorry, she just really irritates me sometimes,” Liz sighed, sitting on the floor across from you. She leant on the wall, her legs splayed out in front of her carelessly.

“I’m right here, I can hear you!” Maggie said through the wood, pounding on it once.

“If it bothers you so much, leave!” Liz retorted, crossing her arms as though Maggie could see her. After a few beats of silence, Liz rolled her eyes with a groan. She knocked her head back against the wall, before screwing her eyes shut and whispering a quiet, ‘ow.’

“You can take your bath,” Liz mumbled, her eyes still shut tight.

“No thanks,” you said quickly, laughing as you saw her smile.

“You can keep your under stuff on,” she suggested.

“I’m not undressing in front of you.”

“One time, you wore nothing but a blanket wrapped around your shoulders. I don’t think you were even wearing pants.”

“You woke me up at midnight by crawling through my window, that hardly counts.”

“Liz, have you and (Y/N) been getting up to less than savoury activities?” Jim asked through the door in a condescending, teasing voice. You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath. Liz on the other hand got straight up, kicked the door once, then sat back down.

“Liz, call my mum, you have a stronger voice than I do.”

“Oh (Y/N), of course,” Liz said with a breathy smile, before loudly shouting out your mothers’ name. She quickly shouted back something you couldn’t hear, but you heard her footsteps pounding up the stairs, and her berating Maggie, as well as what you assumed was the rest of your friends. She opened the door, let Liz out, and at last, it was silent. You resumed pouring your bath water that had gone down to lukewarm, and got in, reveling in the warmth and comfort it provided.

It wasn’t until thirty minutes later that you got out, fingers dried like prunes and hair fluffier from the humidity. Your friends were waiting in your room, all engrossed in their own activities. Maggie, attempting to play your lute, Belicia, looking through your book collection while Liz looked through your records. Melina was gazing out the window muttering something to herself, and Jim was sleeping on your bed, even though his was right next to yours.

“Ah, hello (Y/N),” Maggie said with a cheery voice, looking up from the instrument. You gave her a curt smile, making your way to your side of the bed. Jim occupied the other side, so it was difficult to get in without disturbing him, but you did it.

“I like Christmas at your house, it’s exciting. Do you always get sick or was it just this year?” Melina asked, turning her attention away from her daydreaming. You laughed, settling into your pillow again.

“It’s not usually like this, but I have a feeling it’s going to be from now on.”

Exhaustion quickly took over your body, making you fall into deep sleep in a matter of seconds.

“I think if I wanted to die, I’d get someone else to do it for me. Seems obvious, right?”

“You’d be indicting someone for murder at that point.”

“Yeah, but it’s not like I care about them, right? It’d be a hired gun.”

You awoke, what you assumed was hours later, to people conversing near you. You kept your eyes closed, listening in on the conversation.

“If I had to kill myself, I wouldn’t put that on anybody.”

“Not even someone who lives to kill?”

“No, I’d just hurl myself off a cliff.”

“I’d take pills.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, just like sleeping pills. Those kill you in large amounts, don’t they?”

“No, they don’t,” you mumbled, slowly opening your eyes and sitting up. You felt a whole lot better, more energized, though you didn’t want to eat anything just yet.

“(Y/N), you’re awake,” Jim said, resting a hand on your shoulder and adjusting your pillows so you could sit up properly. You thanked him quietly before resuming the conversation topic.

“You’d have to take like 70 pills, and only certain kinds of sleeping pills. If you had to kill yourself with pills, the best thing to use is pain killers in large doses. Though suicide by pill is considerably less successful than other ways, like hanging or bullet to the head. Either way, why are we talking about suicide?”

“Uh, we were talking about our least favourite ways to die and then our favourite ones, but Melina’s least favourite way to die is suicide. Along with disease,” Maggie explained. You nodded sagely, thinking over the question.

“My least favourite way to die is being buried underground. Suffocation, starvation, dehydration, panic, blood loss. It’s all there. Two others would be drowning and burning, which are the most painful ways to die I think,” you said, fiddling with the blanket on your legs.

“What about your favourite way?” Liz asked, leaning forward on her palms.

“In my sleep, or murdered. Really solidifies your place in history no matter who you are.” You shrugged, still not meeting eye contact with anyone. if you did, who would it be? Wouldn’t it be awkward to try and make eye contact with all of them? It would be even worse if you only maintained eye contact with one of them. Looking away was best.

“Never thought of it like that,” Jim hummed, looking to the ceiling as if it were God giving answers away.

“Oh, by the way, you’ve been asleep for a while. What time is it?” Melina hit Maggie’s arm, pointing towards the clock on the bedside table.

“23:59, so, midnight,” she answered.

“Your mum told us to go to sleep, but we didn’t,” Liz said, leaning forward with a wink and a smirk. You giggled, nodding.

“Tomorrow’s Christmas Eve,” Jim said gleefully, punching you lightly on your arm with a toothy smile.

“We should probably get to sleep then? See you folks around,” Belicia said, patting Liz’s shoulder as she stood up from your bed.

“What? It’s only midnight!” Melina protested, but she was dragged by her collar away from you anyways. She uttered a quick good bye as she was dragged away.

“She’s right, let’s get to sleep,” Jim mumbled against a yawn, tugging at Maggie’s sweater sleeve before falling off your bed and crawling to his own. You held back a laugh as you watched him land face first into the mattress, followed by Maggie neatly tucking herself in and putting in earplugs.

“Jim’s out cold, isn’t he?” You whispered to Liz, who was now sitting close beside you.

“Most likely. You tired?”

“I just woke up.”

“Right… then what do you suppose we do?”

You thought a moment as you rearranged your pillows. After getting them in proper position, you moved yourself to lie down next to a still sitting upright Liz.

“You could tell me a story,” you suggested quietly, thumbing nervously at the sheets above you. She looked down at you, smiling like she was reminiscing, and she nodded.

“Alright,” she said, lying down next to you. “I’ll tell you a story.”

“There was once a kingdom called Geahl. It hangs just off the coast of South America, or it did, a long while ago. For a bit of background, it was once domineered by a dragon. This dragon had two eggs that it left behind once it perished, and when people came out of hiding to find the dragon gone, they took care of the eggs, hoping that they would hatch, and that one or two dragons would be on their side. Advantageous, right?”

You nodded, turning to her and curling into her side. She laughed sheepishly, cheeks reddening before she continued with a quiet stutter.

“Hundreds of years later, the, uh, eggs haven’t hatched, but they’re still, um, worshipped and - and holy. They’ve got choirs that bless them - there’s the Duke’s Choir for one egg, the King’s Choir for the other, and the Grand Choir, which sings to both eggs. Dani and Robin are part of King’s Choir, which is how they met. However that day they were simply hanging out at Dani’s house. Robin noticed an egg shaped box on the mantle, and Dani warned Robin that her parents said not to touch it or open it. Robin told her that her parents weren’t there, and that it would be fine. So Robin grabbed it off the mantle and while Dani fought Robin to put it back, Robin opened it, finding an old artifact from ancient China,” Liz said, her voice animated as she told the story. You smiled nearly the whole time, enraptured in her speech.

“What was the artifact?” You asked excitedly.

“A coin, or yen, I believe it’s called. Either way Dani forced Robin to put it back, but Robin took the box back and reopened it, finding now not the coin, but an old piece of paper from Egypt with hieroglyphs painted all over it. Both of them feared the supernatural power of this box, so they put it back on the shelf, and left it there. Later that week, the two of them were walking the castle halls. They were allowed to do this because they were practically royalty, what with being in the King’s choir and all that. Anyway, they came across the open door to the King’s chambers. After all, doors weren’t really a thing many people had. Robin wanted to listen in, but Dani thought it’d be dangerous. However, Robin convinced Dani, and they both listened to the King discussing war with two neighboring countries. One of these countries had a greater military but worse weapons and intelligence. This country was called Heralm. The other country had little to no military personnel, but it had gross weapons capable of destroying swaths of land. This country was called Inoc. They heard him say that all he wanted was to keep the peace.

“Astounded at this, Dani and Robin fled to the rest of the choir, quickly relaying to their close friends what they had just heard. The King’s choir grew increasingly worried at the prospect of war, and went to tell the Duke’s choir. The Duke’s choir, having heard a half tale from the King’s choir, immediately believed that the country should go to war with Heralm and Inoc, while the King’s choir thought it best to stay peaceful and out of it. Soon, it was a full fledged verbal battle of wits, and the only thing to stop it was the Grand Choir. Two steps above the Duke’s choir and one step above the King’s, it held the most power in the small hierarchy of singers. However, the Grand Choir only stops the fight to say that Dani and Robin shouldn’t’ve been snooping in the first place, which starts the fight all over again.

“This time, the fight is broken by the King and his guards. The King, in all his wisdom, does not punish any of the three parties. He sits them all down, telling them how this small fight in many ways mimicked the three countries on the verge of war. The largest, wanting no violence, a small nation wanting to go to war, and another small nation not wanting to. Afterwards he sent them home. Dani and Robin learned their lesson not to fight. So instead they invited their friend John, who was near deathly sick, to Dani’s house. In a moment of anxious curiosity and wonder, they hand the egg box to John. He opens it, and finds a magical cure to his disease inside - as he ingests it, his skin gains back its’ colour, and he can walk once more. After that, the three of them decided unanimously that the box definitely had some sort of freakish supernatural power.

“Later that week the King called back the three choirs to his throne room, where he proceeded to explain the whole situation to them all, so as to not spread incorrect rumours. He told them that Heralm lost their healing stone. He spoke of how it looked a bit like an egg shaped box,” Liz glanced at you with a knowing but suspicious look, “and that when opened by the sick, would contain a miracle cure for that person. Robin and Dani glanced at each other, knowing full well exactly where this box was. The King continued despite their look, explaining that Heralm was blaming Inoc for stealing their stone, and that Geahl wanted to keep the peace. After the King dismissed the three choirs, Robin and Dani went up to the King, telling him that they knew where the box was- in Dani’s home. The King is skeptical of course, but he trusts them, and brings in Dani’s parents to question while a group of guards searched the house.

“Dani, Robin, the King, and several guards found out that day that Dani’s parents were royal guards at Heralm’s capitol. They had decided to steal the box and flee castle and country, eventually ending up in Geahl. As their punishment, they are sent back to the capitol of Heralm to be dealt with, along with the healing stone and a large group of guards for protection. Dani however, since she had done nothing wrong, was allowed to stay with her friend Robin, and not only was war avoided, but Dani and Robin get to have sleepovers every night.”

“You’re too creative for me,” you murmured, feeling tired. Liz’s story had worked. While interesting, it was long, and it definitely kept you busy till your body felt ready for sleep again.

“Hardly. Going to sleep now?” She asked, scooting underneath the covers.

“Yeah… thank you, Liz,” you sighed, grasping the blanket tightly so as to not latch onto her. You had ‘cuddled’ with her before, but now that you looked back, it felt as though you had been overstepping your boundaries, and it made you cringe in on yourself.

“Good night, Molly,” she whispered sweetly, curling up against you to keep warm. Releasing the blanket you held so tight you grasped onto her, softening into her arms.

“Good night.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'ALL when I was copy and pasting this into the chapter thing I accidentally pasted instead of copied so I completely deleted this chapter,, when I found the undo button dear GOD was I relieved. Also - the story at the end is a story I wrote and I'd appreciate it if no one used it. Thanks!


	14. Any Day, Any How

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things don't always have to be perfect. It's just the people you're with.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for some NSFW content between two characters.

You were sitting in your bed with Liz, the two of you wearing classic night gowns and reading beside each other. For some reason, she wore glasses. She turned the page slowly and delicately before speaking.

“I have a wedding in a few days,” she told you, her voice quiet to match the environment. You set your book open faced on your lap.

“Oh? With who?” You inquired.

“Fuckin’ you, you idiot,” she said, shutting her book with a slam.

You woke up in a cold sweat. Beside you, curled into you was Liz. On the other side of the room, Jim and Maggie snored softly. You blinked thickly a few times, turning back to face Liz. You took a deep breath, and fell right back asleep.

“Good morning, how’re you feeling?” Your mother woke you with a gentle shake.

“Better. Still don’t want to eat,” you told her, grunting slightly as you sat up.

“I expect it’ll be like that for a bit. Hopefully you’ll be able to have some dinner tonight and tomorrow,” she said with a smile, leaving your bedside and the room. You looked around, seeing Jim and Maggie fully dressed and talking, and Liz still sitting in bed, but wide awake.

“What’s the plan for today, since you’re feeling better?” Jim asked, looking up at you from his mattress.

“I was thinking we could go somewhere,” you said, yawning right after with a long stretch of your arms.

“Where exactly?” Maggie asked, not looking up from her journal.

“(Y/N) wants to drive around the place, see the sights. Not much else to do,” Jim clarified.

“Go out into the country and have some fun,” you said with a laugh, sliding off your bed and towards your closet.

“Oh like to the abandoned castle!” Liz exclaimed, realizing at last what you meant by a drive.

“Sort of, but definitely not there. I think I’ve had enough near death instances to last me for the next fifty years,” you said. Pulling out a Victorian-style button down, you paired it with a lace collar and black, bell bottom dress pants. After a quick trip to the bathroom, you were fully dressed, minus shoes of course. While in the hallway you encountered Melina and Belicia, who were currently entering your room, followed by you.

“I think if we’re going to drive around, we need a specific location. At least to tell our parents where we’re going,” Jim said, beginning to pace next to your window.

“Scotland,” Melina suggested proudly, with a thick Scottish accent as she hung upside down off your bed.

“Too far. How about the old graveyard?” Jim turned around from his window pacing to face the room. You shrugged, nodding in agreement.

“Didn’t take you for the graveyard type, Molly,” Liz said, hefting herself off the bed and towards her clothes.

“I’m not. But Jim is,” you said with a laugh, your tongue sticking out between your teeth. Liz stared at you wide eyed for a moment before laughing along as well, and when she raced away to the restroom, you wondered what you did to upset her.

“Did I do something wrong?” You asked the general room.

“No, she’s just like that,” Belicia said absently.

You turned to Jim, hoping he’d have a more detailed explanation. Instead he shrugged, just as lost as you were.

Eventually the six of you piled into Jim’s old car, the four girls in the back seat with you and Jim in the front. They wouldn’t stop fussing over each other (considering the space back there wasn’t very large, especially for four people), so you were grateful when Jim finally pulled over. However, that didn’t come for a good two hours - Jim _insisted_  that the best abandoned church-graveyard duo was far out and away.

“I’m never getting in there again,” Melina gasped as she threw herself dramatically out of the car, falling to her knees as she stumbled.

“You’re going to have to, unless you’d like to walk home,” Maggie sassed, getting out with relative ease, followed by Maggie and Liz on the other side of the car.

“What do you suppose we even do now that we’re here?” Belicia asked Jim, stretching her arms out.

“Sit on gravestones,” he suggested, hopping over the old stone wall around the abandoned cemetery.

“A bit crude, isn’t it?” Melina said.

“Where are our manners? Just ask them if it’s okay to sit on them,” Liz gestured to the headstone politely.

“Hello, good sir, I’d like to use the only monument to your life that’s left to sit on for a few hours, further deteriorating it and speeding up the erosion process so there’s no mark of your existence on this planet earth, or anywhere in the vast expanse of the universe,” Maggie said, crouched at eye level with the headstone.

“Now you’re just being morbid. Sit on the wall if you can’t handle it,” Liz shoved her away from the stone by her head. Maggie stuck her tongue out at Liz but went to sit on the closest wall. You decided to try and climb the tree in the corner of the graveyard. As you approached it you realized it was quite a bit taller than you’d originally realized, so you might require the help of your friends.

“Jim! Help me climb this tree!” You called to him. He hopped off a fallen bit of the church, jogging over to your position.

“I don’t think I can lift you that far,” he said, scanning the tree up and down.

“Which one of you is strongest?” You called over to the girls, prompting all four of them to head to you. You all crowded around the tree, looking confusedly up at it as though it held the secrets of the dead.

“This tree is probably fed by the matter of the dead people buried here,” Maggie thought out loud, playing with her hair.

“Wonderful thought, thank you dearest. I’m the strongest,” Melina said, crossing her arms.

“Get on my shoulders,” Jim said, crouching down. Melina was hesitant, looking at you and the other girls before swinging her legs over his shoulders. To you were sure _both_  their relief, she was wearing pants.

“How am I gonna get up now?” You asked, watching as they fumbled. Jim lead them right next to the tree, and Melina leant on it to keep from falling over. As you said that, hands came underneath your arms, heaving you off the ground. You panicked internally, eyes wide with painful fear. Throughout the exchange of being handed from Maggie, who had originally grabbed you, to Melina, you stayed stock still. Eventually, when Melina began raising you above her head with great effort, you broke out of your trance, grabbing onto the branch closest to you. It was thick, and you wrapped your entire body around it, clinging as Melina’s hands left you.

Laughter sounded from the ground as you situated yourself on top of the branch, instead of hanging from it. You waved to the slightly smaller versions of your friends.

It only hit you at that point that they really were your friends. Every single one of them liked you, and you liked every one of them, and the mere thought was astounding. Four or so months ago you had exactly one friend, and now the number had gone up to five - six, if you counted Johann. Not really.

It was also at that point you realized you were stuck in the tree. You couldn’t get down the same way you got up without causing serious harm to either Melina, Jim, or Maggie, _or yourself_. Instead of confronting this fear, you climbed upwards. From a higher branch you hung upside down, your legs clinging tight to the branch.

“You’re like a monkey,” Belicia laughed, watching as you started swaying in your hanging position.

“I prefer the term lemur,” you shouted down to her.

“Oh well, _my_ _apologies_.”

“Uh, (Y/N), how are you going to get down?” Jim asked, crossing his arms as he squinted up at you.

“Yeah, I know,” you grunted, coming to the lowest hanging branch which was still a good three or four meters off the ground.

“You _know_?! Shouldn’t you, I don’t know, do something about it? Like tell us? We need to get help!” Jim started panicking, his hands running harshly through his hair, tugging at his scalp.

“Someone get Jim to calm down?” You asked, watching as he began pacing nervously. Maggie grabbed his arms, pulled them down, and patted his head. He frowned, feeling patronized, but calmed down anyway.

“You’ll need to call the fire brigade, or something. For that you’ll need a phone, and the nearest house is pretty far away,” you said to them, swinging your feet back and forth on either side of the branch.

“Alright - alright. You’re fine right now, though?” Jim asked, one hand on his hip and the other rubbing his eyes.

“Yes, I’m alright,” you laughed, feeling less and less alright. “Uh - probably want to call the fire brigade.”

“We can’t just leave you here,” Jim fretted nervously, glancing down at the rest of the group.

“You could put me up in the tree with (Y/N),” Liz suggested, proceeding to logically spell out the plan for them. Considering it took Jim, Melina, and Maggie to get you up there, the only choices for others to send up were herself and Belicia. Since Liz was smaller, the choice was obvious.

You didn’t think to inform her that she didn’t _have_  to get in the tree with you. She could’ve just sat on the ground, but spending time with a pretty girl up in a tree sounded pretty good to you.

Jim nodded, looking solemn as he did so. He crouched down again, letting Melina on his shoulders (in another awkward but focused display). Maggie lifted Liz up by her armpits, sending her Melina’s way, and then to you. She grabbed onto the branch, sitting on it properly with your help. Below, Melina got off Jim’s shoulders, and Maggie flexed her fingers.

“We’ll be back in an hour or so, maybe more. Are you _sure_  you’ll be alright?” Jim asked, putting his hands on his hips again.

“Have you got any food in the car?” Liz asked, lying on the thick branch with her stomach.

“I, uh, have granola,” he offered weakly.

“That’ll do, if you will,” Liz said, sending a wink your way before looking back down. Belicia arrived a moment later with a clear bag of granola, which was offered to you by being thrown in your face. Actually, it hit your face the first time, then landed on the ground because you had failed to catch it. The next time it landed in Liz’s open hands. You all laughed about it, before Jim’s face fell solemn again, and they left without another word.

“Hi,” you said nervously, tearing at the bark on the tree.

“What’s a beautiful doll like you doing in a place like this?” Liz asked smoothly, eyelashes low to add to the act of suave.

“In a tree? Thought it’d have a good view,” you stifled a laugh as you played along.

“And how is the view?”

“Breath taking,” you said slowly, your voice a whisper. Your eyes trailed her up and down just for good measure.

Then the act broke with giggles erupting out of her, and you following soon after. She rocked backwards, nearly falling off the tree before steadying herself with wide eyes and open, flexing hands.

“Careful there, don’t want to fall,” you said warily, grasping onto her upper arm.

“You’d catch me,” she said with a smile.

“Uh - right,” you laughed nervously, letting go of her arm to rub yours anxiously.

“So what do you suppose we do for an hour?” Liz asked, leaning onto her back with her hands supporting her head. The sun speckled through the leaves, illuminating her face beautifully as shadows danced against her skin.

“I could ask you deep, intruding questions that have been bugging me for a while,” you suggested without thinking. There were several questions that were deep and intruding that had bugged you for a while.

“Sure, why not.”

 _Oh man, she has no idea what she just got herself into,_ you thought with a smirk.

“What’s Molly mean?” You started off with. Easier than anything.

“That’s a surprise, I’ll tell you later,” she answered. When you criticized her answer, she said, “I just have to answer, it doesn’t have to be correct.”

“Why did you kiss me?”

“Same answer as the one I had that night, I wanted to.”

“What’s that song you keep humming?”

“What?”

“A few days, or - or weeks back, there was this song you wouldn’t stop humming.”

“Oh!” Liz’s eyes flashed with recognition. “My new favourite song. I had it stuck in my head, it’s called La la means I love you. Very sweet.”

“These are totally inadequate answers. I wanted more drama,” you pouted, crossing your arms. Liz just laughed, sitting up to wrap an arm around you. Her legs dangled beside yours in the winter chill. She held you close, warming up a whole side of your body. The other side did well warming up due to blush and embarrassment.

“I can make it more dramatic if you’d like,” Liz said, looking up at you with her arm still wrapped around your shoulders.

“How so?”

“I’m so dreadfully, deeply in love with a best friend of mine and that song is the only song that _understands_  me!” She whined with an empty, middle aged woman voice.

“Oh shut it,” you shoved her lightly, pushing her arm off of you.

“You know you’re very odd,” she said suddenly, her face falling serious. “I don’t think you even know how odd you are.”

“What makes you say that?” You asked, voice timid as you shrunk in on yourself. Was this good or bad? You kept your eyes off hers, hoping that’d keep your nerves down to a minimum.

“You’re… just very mysterious, (Y/N). You just did one of the things that is kind of… odd.”

“Could you perhaps elaborate?” You half joked, hoping that’d make you feel better. It didn’t, but it didn’t make you feel worse either.

“You don’t like to look me in the eyes,” she said softly, no malice in her tone. Only gentle inquisition, with a hint of a fear of rejection.

“Looking people in the eyes makes me nervous,” you laughed, nervously, gripping onto your pants with tight fists.

“You also sometimes grow distant, like you’re imagining your own little world in place of this one,” she continued.

“A world’s not anything without you, and I don’t think I ever quite imagine you right. You’re much faster and wittier than what my brain can think of.”

_Jesus Christ, where did that come from? You need to stop complimenting her._

“You need to stop complimenting me by putting yourself down,” she noted with a giggle, lying back down on the branch.

“Y - You need t’ stop being so, uh, cute,” you stammered out, face reddening to the shade of a tomato.

“Smooth, Molly,” Liz joked.

“Thank you,” was what your brain left you to reply with.

“I do think the funniest thing about you, though, is how oblivious you are. That, or how easy you are at rejecting advances while still managing to be a very touch-centric friend.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Of course you know I’m in love with you,” she said seriously, looking at you as though she were worried. In this situation, you felt like the worrying happened mostly to you.

_Of course you know I’m in love with you._

 

_Of course._

 

_She’s in love with me._

 

_Of course I know she’s in love with me._

“WHAT?!” You screeched, nearly falling off the tree branch. Your hands clamped onto the sides of it, as you started taking shallower breaths.

“I thought you knew…” she mumbled, twiddling with her fingers.

“You’re in _love_  with me?! Why didn’t you _say_  anything??!”

“I thought it was obvious! You think I just go around kissing people? Holding their hands, getting all emotionally sappy with just _anyone_?”

“YES! That’s what normal people do!”

“Normal people don’t go around kissing other people.”

“Oh _shut up_ ,” you growled, crossing your arms and pouting. She laughed, before going quiet a moment.

“You really didn’t know?” She asked softly, leaning towards you.

“No,” you mumbled, your eyes downcast.

“I’ve actually known _you_  were in love with me. I forgot that, sorry. You told me when you were blacked out, on your cousins’ wedding day?” She told you.

Ah, so she had been holding information back.

“Wh- what? What did I do? I didn’t… do anything weird, did I?” You asked nervously, beginning to fidget in your seat.

“No, you didn’t kiss me, if you were wondering. You pulled me into a closet, practically yelled ‘I’m in love with you,’ and then ran away. I found you later, professed my own love, and that was that. Then I took you outside and we danced, and you told me you’d forgotten the whole ordeal. Very upsetting,” she tutted playfully. When she saw you were silent, she turned serious again, trying to comfort you with a smile. She put her hand on your cheek, pushing you to look at her. You did so, seeing nothing but sincerity and love written into her like a song she knew too well. She leaned further towards you, initiating what you knew to be a kiss. You put your hands on her chest, stopping her from coming closer. She stared, asking silently what was wrong.

“I can’t do this,” you stammered. “It has to be special. I have to be more special - I can’t have my first kiss like this.”

“You’re not living a fairytale, (Y/N), not everything’s perfect. It becomes so when you let it happen naturally and happily,” she assured you gently, her hand coming to rest on yours. “Besides, what’s more magical than Christmas Eve?”

“So I just… calm down and let it happen?” You asked nervously, eyes flitting from meeting hers down to your touching hands.

“Pretty much,” she shrugged.

_Oh God Oh God Oh God Oh God._

“I can’t just _kiss_  you, you’re too pretty!” You blabbered, your hands moving from her to make wild gestures at nothing.

“That’s what I think every time I see you,” she flirted cooly, continuing to scoot closer to you till her forehead touched yours. It froze you in place, staring up into her warm eyes.

“Let - let me do it, I think I’ll be at least calmer if you let me do it,” you stumbled, eyes continuing to nervously flash from her cheek to her eyes. You felt a desperate need to seek protection from her gaze, but it would be rude to not make eye contact, and her eyes were just _so_  pretty.

“Alright,” she murmured. But she didn’t move, instead staying in place with her hand on your cheek, forehead touching yours.

_Normal kiss. Like how a normal person kisses. Not a peck, not a smooch, not too wet, not to dry, don’t be too quick, but don’t linger too long. Don’t make your lips too tight, don’t open them too much. No open mouthed kisses, not up for that. Just soften up, and do it gently._

Every background thought was brought to the forefront of your mind as you slowly leaned in, making continuous and nerve-wracking eye contact with her the entire time.

You closed your eyes.

You leaned in further.

Your head tilted to the side,

You absolutely, under no circumstance, did you breathe.

The rest of you body did not move in any way.

 

 

_Of course you know I’m in love with you._

 

 

You kissed her.

 

She was soft against you, but the tingling sensation that ran through your whole body made your legs weak, and your brain nearly drop out of its’ hatch. Your lips felt near numb on hers, and you didn’t know what any other part of your body was doing. It was just her, and her lips on yours, accompanied by the hand resting safely on your cheek. Your heart had what you would definitely classify as a painful series of palpitations. When she moved against you she felt like silk, and her scent was thick with her perfume she often wore. You’d become accustomed to the smell from the lingering scent she left on your bedsheets.

When she pulled away, and you opened your eyes, you felt as though you were seeing the world in colour for the first time - as if things were finally real.

“You’re a very gentle kisser, (Y/N),” was the first thing she said to you. Quiet and sweet, with the kindest eyes you’d ever seen before. It was the first time you’d ever seen her so content.

“Is that good or bad?” You asked quietly. Now that it was over with, you felt relief wash over you, as though you could do anything in the world. Overall, you felt closer to her.

“Just different from how I kiss,” she shrugged.

“How do you kiss?” You asked with a laugh, your heartbeat accelerating again as you realized this meant she would probably kiss you the way _she_  kissed. She wouldn’t just tell you, no, she couldn’t spare you from the pain.

She put her hand on the back of your neck, pulling you in roughly for a searing kiss that melted you to the core. Her hand went up into your hair, tugging at the base of it. You let out a whimper into her mouth as she opened, her tongue beginning to come out.

This was all very confusing. Where did the tongue fit? Were you supposed to put yours in her mouth? What was the whole deal? This seemed very wrong.

Then she put her tongue in your mouth and it clicked that yes, this was, in a very odd way, pretty hot. Unfortunately you didn’t know what to do, so you let her explore your mouth as you did nothing, only melting into her. She pushed herself closer to you, your chests pressing tight together as she tugged you closer by her hand on your waist. She didn’t stop till she practically crawled into your lap. After that she let you go slowly, hand letting go of your hair and falling to your shoulder as she sat back.

“Like that,” she said with a few quick pants, while the whole endeavor had left you absolutely and entirely breathless. It also left you speechless, so when you regained your breath, you thought of nothing to say or do besides kiss her again.

She didn’t protest.

You began kissing her with quick pecks, landing them all over her face as she giggled, pushing you away.

“Does this make me your girlfriend?” She laughed through the kisses, then pulling you into one long, sweet kiss on the lips.

“Only if you’ll have me,” you said, grabbing her hands and holding them close to your heart.

“Any day, any how, I’d have you,” she murmured, pressing you close so you could feel the movements of her lips against yours as she spoke. You felt the movements, but you sure didn’t feel the rest of your body.

You kissed her again. You’d held back so long that it all came out in a moments notice, pouring out of you in the form of what you were sure was far too many kisses.

“D’you think we should tell the others?” You asked, pulling away for a moment.

“Nah, they’ve been trying desperately to get us together. Let’s just not say a thing and watch them struggle as we’re openly affectionate with each other and they get increasingly confused,” she said with an evil smile, giving you a quick kiss on the nose.

“You’re wicked,” you said, kissing her lips.

“I know.” She smirked, kissing you once more.

After ten more minutes of smooching your girl, you heard cars in the distance, and immediately broke away.

“Y’think they’re coming?” Liz asked, leaning closer to you to get a better look down the road.

“They better be, I’m not spending Christmas Eve stuck in a tree all night,” you grumbled, pulling Liz closer to you without thinking.

“Even with me?”

“Wouldn’t you prefer to be sitting by the fire, drinking hot chocolate together rather than sitting alone in a tree?”

“The alone part sounds pretty good,” she said in a sultry voice, tracing a single finger up your stomach, chest, and tapping your nose once.

“Ha, uh, hm, they’re here!” You exclaimed nervously, gesturing to Jim’s car along with the fire engine with its’ great big ladder. Fortunately, the one guy who was in the truck seemed to be in his mid 20’s, very chilled out, and calm about the entire situation. The only real words he said to you and Liz were, ‘you kids are crazy.’ He had an American accent.

The two of you got down by the ladder, and you thanked the man profusely. He just fake saluted you, got back in his fire engine, and drove away.

“Hope he doesn’t call our parents,” you said absently as he left.

“Ah, he doesn’t know who we are,” Jim shrugged it off. You nodded. The girls and Jim made their way back to the car, Liz looked at you. She held your hand in hers, leaned in, and whispered softly in your ear.

“I love you,” was what she whispered. You didn’t get a chance to say it back before she skipped on back to the car, squishing in next to the girls. She was _perfect_. You smiled dreamily to yourself, making your way to sit in the passengers seat.

“Anything exciting happen while we were gone?” Jim asked as he began driving down the old road. You and Liz shared a look that was both funny and serious.

“No, not really,” you said, shifting to cross your legs.

“Not especially,” she said at the same time. Jim looked at you with a side eye, then looked at Liz through the rear view mirror, looking suspicious the entire time.

“Alright,” he shrugged.

By the time you got home it was already late afternoon, and it was beginning to snow. You thanked whoever was listening for letting it not snow when you were stuck in the tree. When you entered your house, your mother excitedly informed you that your father was back early from work. Liz paled, Jim seemed impressed, and the others just seemed confused. You didn’t know how to feel - sort of felt like a relative you didn’t know was coming over. You acted excited for your mother.

“That’s cool!” You said with the minimum amount of enthusiasm. Your mother supplied far too much real enthusiasm on her end.

“Yes, yes! He’s sitting in the living room now. He’s got a fire going, why don’t you go join him? I’ll make you hot chocolate,” she said, patting your back and trying to get you into the living room. Being ever good friends, they followed you, determined to suffer the same fate you were about to.

Conversations with your father were… weird. Very short.

“Hi,” he said simply as you came in, the six of you lining the hearth of the fireplace.

“Hey,” you awkwardly countered.

“How’s school going?” He asked.

“It’s alright.”

“I’m glad you’ve got more friends.”

“… So am I.”

On the love seat, Jim’s parents rolled their eyes.

You leaned into Jim sitting beside you, hoping he’d maybe do something. He didn’t, probably just as lost as you were. Fortunately a few minutes later your mother came in, carrying a whole tray of hot chocolates.

“You’re the best mum,” you told her thankfully. She blushed, pretended to get flustered, then said, ‘I know.’

“Tomorrow’s Christmas,” Liz whispered excitedly to you, her shoulders tensed as she leaned close to your ear.

“I’m aware,” you chuckled, taking a sip from your cup.

Your mother returned from her jaunt back to the kitchen, practically sitting on top of your father. She asked how his week was, and he spun a dramatic and interesting story. You still had no idea what his job was.

Liz grabbed your wrist, tugging on it. You diverted your attention to her, and she mouthed _upstairs_. You frowned, gesturing to your father who was still in the middle of his story.

“He won’t mind I’m sure,” she whispered, tugging a bit more forcefully. After another minute of nagging you gave in, giving your mother a flimsy excuse that Liz needed to tell you something. Jim winked at you out of the corner of your eye, and the two of you quickly left after that. Your drinks remained unattended on the hearth.

She lead the way, pulling you into your room and sitting you down on the bed. She sat beside you, quickly giving you a long kiss on the lips.

“Is that what you pulled me up here for?” You asked, giggling.

“Not just that,” she murmured, leaning in for a slower, more sensual kiss. It tugged at your heartstrings as she pulled away, a slightly wet sound accompanying the movement. When she pulled fully apart she swung her leg over your lap, sitting herself down on you in her short skirt and black tights.

“W - What?” You whispered nervously, unsure of what she was about to do. If your instincts were correct, you were about to either make out or have sex, neither of which you were fully prepared for when she pulled you upstairs.

“Haven’t you ever played with a pretty girl before?” She asked sweetly, giving you an innocent look as she leaned in. Her face came right up beside yours, her cheek pressed against your cheek as she whispered into your ear.

“Now’s your chance.”

“Someone could walk in on us,” you warned shakily, eyes flickering towards the door and back to her. Your hands stayed firmly off her and behind your back.

“Nothing wrong with that, I’m just playing,” she fluttered her eyes coyly.

“ _Liz_ ,” you hissed when she ground down on your thigh. You nearly jumped out of your skin, heart racing so fast you couldn’t feel it anymore.

“Jus’ playing,” she whispered against your skin, her lips pressed but barely there against your cheekbone. When you insistently kept your hands off her as she continued lightly grinding against you (which continued to give you a heart attack), her fingers latched around your wrists, setting them firmly on her thighs. You audibly gulped, eyes fixed to where your skin touched black satin tights. Slowly, she moved your open palms up skinny thighs until your hands latched onto her hips, gripping tightly on what was probably her ass. You couldn’t breathe, looking at your own hands underneath her skirt.

_Your hands underneath Liz fucking Taylors’ skirt._

“Liz this isn’t appropriate,” was what came sputtering out of your mouth, your first reaction to someone coming onto you.

“Gee, really? I thought we always did this during Sunday Church,” she said sarcastically.

“Oh shut up,” you mumbled, hiding in her shoulder. She responded by removing her hands from your shoulders, and beginning to unbutton her Victorian styled blouse. The pace of her riding your thigh never strayed.

“You need to calm down,” she breathed out, undoing the last button.

“I - I can’t,” you stammered, feeling nervous and shaky and unequivocally turned on. You kept trying desperately not to look at her bare chest, but as she continued, soft moans singing through softer lips, it was getting harder not to stare.

“Then let me help you,” she soothed, pressing wet kisses from your cheek to your lips. She moved your hands again, this time settling just below her bra. Her skin burned you, the temptation to move just a little higher overbearing.

“Don’t think that’s helping,” you said between her kisses. She didn’t respond, instead moving her own hand between your legs and rubbing her palm against your own crotch. A bolt of pleasure shot through you at the sensation, new and strange. You let out a whine, whether it was from pleasure or anxiety you didn’t know. Your head landed back on her shoulder, hiding in her scent as she still rocked against you, occasional moans falling out of her.

“Mm, feels good,” she murmured into your ear, causing you to shiver. Her pace began to pick up, hands tightening around your shoulders. A louder moan, though still held back, came from her as she rocked against you with a newer, more desperate intensity.

You felt yourself getting closer as well, nervousness and excitement thrill in your veins. She let out a sudden, loud moan. Your hand shot up, fully covering her mouth as you pulled back, looking at her with wide, fearful eyes. Hers were clouded over with lust, moaning from deep in her throat but getting caught in your hand.

_Was she getting off to you shutting her up?_

You had no time to contemplate her _kinks_ , or whatever they were called, as her hips stilled, tight against your thigh. Her whole body shook as her head leaned forwards, forehead touching yours as she came. On your part you watched in awe, her shoulders tightening up as an expression of pure bliss crossed her face - all because of you.

When she finished riding through her own aftershocks she continued stroking you through your clothing. You tried to stop her, push her away, but she was having none of it.

“Y - You don’t have to do this, I’m alright,” you insisted shakily.

“But baby, I wanna,” she whined, high pitched and still needy. You hummed nervously to yourself, allowing her to touch you freely. She unbuttoned your trousers, a single hand slipping underneath. With just pants in the way of you and her fingers, the hot sensation felt much more real. You heard a moan come out of your throat, but it didn’t feel like it came from you.

You remembered in a moment of pure anxiety that she could see your face, and that you might be making weird expressions. You dug your face into her neck, trailing small kisses from her collar bone to her jawline. A louder moan than the one before wrenched through you, jerking you forward as you chased her fingers, hips canting after the touch she abandoned so suddenly.

“So good for me,” she murmured, pulling at your hair to get you to look at her. You obeyed without fight, gazing desperately into her calm and put together face.

“ _Please_ ,” you begged, hips jerking forward as you felt your trousers rub against you.

“Patience, Molly,” she tutted, placing her hand originally in your hair on your cheek, stroking you with her thumb.

“Try telling that to you not a minute ago,” you grumbled, feeling yourself fall down from a high that was just barely there. She reprimanded you with a light slap to the shoulder that didn’t even hurt, before resuming your actions.

“Thank you,” you mumbled abashedly, trying to hide your face once more. This time she kept a firm grip on your hair, tugging it so you couldn’t move. With one particularly harsh pull, you moaned, surprising the both of you.

“Both my hands are occupied,” she said, eyes raking over your helpless position. “Guess I’ll just have to use my mouth to keep you quiet. Don’t want everyone downstairs hearing you, now do you?”

“Pity me, having to get kissed by the pretty girl,” you said, grunting slightly as she pressed especially hard against you.

“Hush,” she said simply, leaning in to kiss you. Her fingers pressed into you, gathering the wetness dripping from you. Moans fell from you only to be swallowed by her, lips pressed tightly to yours. It was an effective way to keep you from being too loud.

With one final, perfect stroke you came, full body shuddering as you fell against her chest. She laughed, and the vibrations from her calmed you down, bringing you back to the present.

_Holy shit, did you just have sex?_

“That was - um,” you swallowed thickly, “that was unexpected.”

“On the contrary, I think it’s been long overdue.”

You closed your eyes, calming your own heartbeat. At the moment, all you could feel was her - her scent, and her unclothed skin hot against your own. You let yourself fall further till you realized that she was half naked, in a suggestive position on you, and your door absolutely did not have a lock.

“Liz, get off me, someone could see,” you said quickly, half shoving her off as you scooted away.

“Right, of course,” she said, her tone leaning sarcastically. You pressed your lips thinly together as you watched her, leaning back on her own to give you an even better view of her -

“Button yourself up,” you muttered, already doing it for her. You reached the last button, receiving a kiss from her. She watched you blush bright red, trying not to smile.

“You’re too much,” she laughed quietly. You opened your mouth to reply, interrupted by the door opening. Your hands shot from her shoulders to your lap.

“Oh, here you are,” Jim said, opening the door to let the rest of the troupe in.

“Having fun?” Melina asked, falling backwards onto Jim’s mattress.

“Just talking,” you lied quickly, raising suspicion in basically everyone, which you noticed two seconds after speaking.

“‘Bout what?” Belicia asked with a slight frown.

“Music. I was wondering if she wanted to use some of my, uh, songs.”

“… Ah,” was all Melina said. They couldn’t accuse you of doing anything else - your answer was near immediate.

“Well I was thinking we could do something, wile away the night till Christmas comes,” Jim proposed, sitting down on the floor in front of you. Belicia and Maggie sat beside him, creating a sort of half circle. You and Liz quickly joined them on the floor.

“And this supposed thing we do? What is it?” Maggie asked, leaning in.

“Truth or dare,” he looked around slyly, earning groans and protests from practically everyone.

“That’s a kids’ game,” Melina groaned. Meanwhile, you laughed out loud, distantly remembering when truth or dare became a thing, historically speaking. The others stared at you, a bit confused as to your happy state.

“Truth or dare really makes you that happy?” Liz looked you up and down with a frown.

“No - no, it’s just, the game was invented to be played around Christmas time. I think it’s funny, like we’re paying homage to the original version. It was actually called questions and commands. There was a commander and you had to answer any question he gave you. A bit different, but it’s the first game that resembled truth or dare,” you explained. You’d read it in a history textbook while trying to find information on Siddhartha Gautama.

“ _How_  do you know this?” Jim asked, exasperated. You explained the textbook.

“Right, well, I guess we’re doing it,” Jim said with a slap to his knees, straightening his back. “Maggie! Truth or dare.”

“Truth,” she answered, prompting Melina to call her boring. Maggie stuck her tongue out at her. Jim leaned over to Melina, asking her a question in a whisper of a voice. She responded, and Jim posed his question.

“How many people have you slept with?”

Well, that was sudden, and caused a chain reaction of snorting laughter and rolling backwards.

“Uh - uh, none?” She answered hesitantly. Liz fell onto your shoulder laughing. On instinct your back straightened up, and your thoughts went out with a blip. When she returned to her usual sitting position, all you could think of was her. Was it normal to be so infatuated? Or was it just her? Your grip on time got a bit out of hand, and soon Liz was trying to get your attention.

“Hm?”

“Truth or dare, Molly,” she said with a giggle.

“Truth,” you mumbled distractedly.

“I dare you to come over here and kiss me,” she said.

“Okay,” you said. You half processed her words, leaning over to her.

“(Y/N), you didn’t even say dare!” Jim tugged at your sleeve, but you hardly noticed him what with Liz being so close to you.

“ _(Y/N)_!” Jim tugged more forcefully at your sleeve, making you sit back down in your ‘seat’.

“What?” You looked at him, half dazed.

“You’re out of it,” he scoffed. “Liz, don’t take advantage of a poor soul like (Y/N)s’. And besides, it was a truth question.”

Despite him ruining your kiss with Liz, you gave him credit. On the outside, from his position it did probably look as though you were about to make a very big mistake, ruining what would be your first kiss in a truth or dare game.

“Spoilsport. What’s your greatest wish?” She replied, turning back to look at you.

“Currently? I really want to hug a sheep. No idea why.” A few people chuckled, and you passed your turn, letting the game continue without you. You pretended to doze off again, hoping that people might skip over you. There was a specific mood you had to be in to play games with questions and your mood was not yet correct.

In fact all you could think of was the stupid skirt Liz was wearing. It was far too cold for winter, even with the stockings. She sat beside you, giving you a clear view of her black thighs. Your staring must not have been noticeable as no one commented at your eyes fixed on Liz’s legs.

 _God, I really love girls,_  you thought, continuously staring at her skirt. It was red, with a green trim. Very Christmas-y.

“I’m going to bed now,” you stated, getting up without a thought and collapsing, fully clothed on the bed.

“Er… it’s been a long day… maybe we should, uh, all go to sleep,” Jim said hesitantly, trying not to laugh at your fallen form.

Liz pulled you off the bed, insisting you had to change. With a heavy groan and a large amount of reluctance you headed to the bathroom, got redressed, and returned. After, you re-collapsed yourself onto the bed, underneath the soft covers. A while later Liz crawled in next to you, pressing a kiss to your temple and wrapping her long limbs around you. You settled your hands on top of the arm atop your chest, relaxing into her hold as you fell asleep.

No worries this time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How'd you like THAT huh?!?!?!? God when they kissed. I shouted for joy. I'm so tired of these stupid babies just fucking get married already. they comin' out next chapter and then im done with this so sad days


	15. End.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 29th of March, 2014.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is meant for female readers due to marriage inequality. It can still be read by men, as the pronouns are still unused/gender neutral. Enjoy, it's quite short :)  
> Trixie - Paul Prenter  
> 'Cookie' Jane - Jim Hutton

In the morning, Jim was shaking you awake. As you jolted awake, you saw Liz sleeping peacefully next to you, and Maggie barely sitting up and looking highly upset on the mattress on the floor.

“Jim?” You asked weakly through the shaking.

“Wake _up_  it’s Christmas!” He jumped over the bed, shaking Liz awake.

“Rude awakening for Christmas. What time is it?” You grumbled, rubbing your eyes.

“6. It’s fucking six,” Maggie growled, running her hands through misshapen hair.

“Jim, get off me!” Liz almost immediately said as Jim began shaking her.

“Christmas!” He punched Liz lightly in the shoulder, heading out the door to who knows where.

“Is he always this excited?” Liz asked, scared fully awake by Jim’s onslaught of excitement and affection.

“He likes Christmas,” you shrugged, pulling the covers off yourself. Due to your more recent sleepovers, you’d been wearing an old, too large plain t shirt, and sweatpants. Liz was still wearing her lingerie, and Maggie was wearing a night gown. The three of you headed much more slowly down the stairs, sitting in the living room in front of the Christmas tree as Melina and Belicia were shaken awake downstairs.

Not a few minutes later that Jim came up the stairs, looking fresh as ever, trailed by a messy looking Melina and Belicia. They sat opposite you on the couch, as Jim sat right next to the tree.

“You think we can open this stuff yet?” He asked, grabbing a wrapped present.

“Jim, don’t you think it’s a bit -“

You put a hand over Liz’s mouth. She couldn’t say it was childish, it would break his heart. Then again she could also be saying that it would be rude to open up the presents without the parents around. So you whispered to her, asking her what she was about to say.

“I was going to say it’s a bit childish,” she whispered back.

“Don’t,” you whispered.

Jim stared at you.

“I don’t think it’s appropriate,” you told him. He frowned, putting the box back underneath the tree in the exact position he found it.

“And don’t you dare wake up either of our parents,” you added quickly. He just seemed more put off by that, crossing his arms and hunching over like a disobedient child.

It wasn’t until an hour later that your parents woke up, followed by Jim’s parents. Still all in their sleep clothes, they sat on the couches, replacing the seats that were once filled by your friends. They moved to the floor to give the adults room.

Gifts were pulled out from underneath the tree by Jim, and handed out to various people. Your mother and father gave you three new jazz records, for which you were very grateful, and gave Jim a book. You couldn’t tell if he was actually interested in the book or not. Jim’s parents on the other hand got him an astrology chart, and got you a new bow, which could be used for both violin and cello.

You sat down beside Jim, getting the presents from you out from underneath the tree, handing them out to your friends. They seemed to appreciate the scarves and baked goods, all four of them hugging you tightly. You could hear Jim mumbled under his breath, “I already gave them their present.”

Unfortunately for you, both you and Liz were preoccupied with everybody else around you, so on Christmas you didn’t get to spend much time alone. Not that you wanted to - what you really wanted was to spend time with your family and friends, which was exactly what you wanted to do. You and Liz had years ahead of you to spend with each other.

Still, midday you ended up back in your room, sitting with all your friends. You sat on your bed, reading a book about the history of Hinduism. Liz sat beside you, writing something down in her own journals. The others were doing various activities - Maggie still trying to play your lute, Melina furiously scribbling something down on a sheet of loose paper.

In plain view of your friends you leaned to her, pressing a kiss to her cheek. Effectively, that was how you came out, with only Belicia actually having caught the small moment.

 

 

 

 

The entirety of your experiences were recorded in various notebooks. Some dream journals, bedside books, and diaries all held entries as to the different events that had happened in the past few months. For a while you kept them near, rereading them every now and then. Liz found out, but as with most things you did, she thought it was sweet.

You all eventually found out that Melina and Belicia had secretly dated as well, but that it happened a while back. After that was revealed there was a whole drama about Melina dating Trixie, who was just awful (you had to admit), but eventually she found ‘Cookie,’ though her real name was Jane, who was much nicer. They were actual soulmates, as Liz called them, just like she called the two of you. 'Actual, real life soulmates,' she'd say, whenever asked about your relationship.

You also found that the house the four girls lived in was a lesbian safe house, which explained a lot.

The process of choosing a name for their band was not a process you were included in (by your choice), but the outcome of it was something you liked. _King_ was a good name you thought, very appropriate, especially when the band became rather popular.

There were times you were certain you’d never make it with her. Not because of her or you specifically, but because statistically speaking, most people don’t marry their high school sweethearts. When you told her of your worries she brushed you off, telling you that it was stupid to think she _wouldn’t_  marry you.

Unfortunately, it was still a long while till you got married.

June 2nd of 2014 was when you got married. The weather was clear, and the heat wave of summer had yet to directly hit. Both of you wore dresses, though hers was remarkably more stylish than yours. You were fine with that. Belicia, Maggie, and even Jane attended.

You just wished Melina could’ve seen the day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading this all the way through. It means a lot to me, this story became something very close to me, and I thank you all for sharing in the experience. I'll be writing about Belicia next, and who she gets with (AKA it's another XReader). So, um..  
> End :)

**Author's Note:**

> If you're wondering and too lazy to look it up, Molly is a slang term for an effeminate gay person. I'm sayin' it now cause I'm not gonna explain it later in the storyline sdkslkdgjh


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